It's Only Cold if You're Standing Still
by Elen-Silver Star
Summary: Not Almarëa related (I know, I know, its the first one). It's Sigrid's fourth year at Hogwarts, but things will take an unexpected turn when for the time she gets to really meet Thranduil, the infamous sixth-year Slytherin seeker. Something is up with Thranduil. He's hiding something that Sigrid wants to find out. Lord of the Ring Characters with Hogwarts setting. Starts Slow.
1. Sorting

Hey there! First, I know this story is not like all of my other stories (it's the only story I've published that works independently and has nothing to do with the Almarëa series or the particular parsonalities of the characters there) Still, the Almarëa series is my precious, _precious_ , baby so don't despair or think that I'm putting that one behind because that will NEVER happen, I'm just working really hard on the chapters because they are not easy to write and I give those my 100%! (I'm almost through half of the next chapter so it should be up by the end of this week or the next one)

Anyway too much on Almarëa and too little on this story. I had previously published it under another penname I had from an old account, but I never use it and I don't want to juggle two accounts so I'm including it here. It's been very fun for me to write it, and hopefully it'll carry a little mystery in it as well. I'm also a die-hard harry potter fan (apart from Tolkien) so this was something I had in my mind for fun and curiosity and decided to write and publish. Hopefully you will give it a go and read it and maybe you'll enjoy it as well haha let me know what you think! :)

Also I know the pairings of the characters are odd, but you have to detach them from the LotR setting and start to understand them individually from than in the context of this story. Anyway no more explanations! I hope it at least brings a smile to your face!

The landscape flew ethereally outside the window, trees giving way to vast clearings spreading green and warm before the imposing mountains in the horizon. Far in the reddening sky, the Sun was beginning to set, tainting the sparse clouds in all shades of pinks as the blue mantel of the sky mixed with the red sun in a compromised purple.

Outside her compartment, students already pranced wearing their long schools robes, the first-years standing anxiously crammed around the windows, as if expecting to catch even if a glimpse of the magnificent castle. Sigrid let out a silent little laugh as she caught one student –clearly of the first year- standing on her tiptoes with her eyes glued to the crystal. Tilda must be somewhere around the train looking exactly like that young girl, eyes wide with excitement and anticipation. She did not know who had told the poor new students that the castle would be visible from the Hogwarts Express? Such a thing was impossible.

And yet, it did somehow lighten her heart to see the new students so excited about arriving to school. She too was excited, even if this would be her fourth year attending the school the ride of the train was always as exciting as it had been her very first time.

"You haven't changed yet, Sig?" A familiar voice made her look up from the book she had been obviously ignoring in her lap, her brown eyes darting up to find Elladan stepping inside her compartment, his twin brother at tow. Both of the twins were already wearing their school robes, the Gryffindor badge splendidly glowing on them.

"Are you reading?! Seriously, Sig?" Elrohir said before she had the chance to speak, dropping himself casually next to her as his silver eyes mocked her, his long dark hair falling over his right shoulder and down his back. The twins were in her class at Hogwarts, and they had been close friends wince their first year. Both of them were chasers in the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and they were the living description of trouble.

"I was about to change before you two dropped in." She scolded them, placing a curl of her hair behind one of her ears and quickly throwing her book back in her trunk. She had not managed to read a single sentence through the entire journey.

"Do you think Tilda will be a Gryffindor too?" Elladan changed the subject, his eternal smirk always present on his face, never taking anything seriously.

"I want her to." She said, quickly throwing her school robes over her clothes as she felt the train slow to a stop. "I _do_ know she's terrified of ending up in Slytherin. Besides, Bain and I are both in Gryffindor, so I bet she feels the pressure of that."

"Well, Dan and I are both in Gryffindor, yet Arwen is in Ravenclaw."Elrohir pointed out lazily, eyes focused on the first-years still piling over the windows, a very _very_ familiar grin growing on his handsome face.

"You told them they would see the castle through the windows, right?" She accused, already knowing the answer. A new grin on Elladan's face, mirroring that of his twin, was all she needed as a confirmation, and she slapped a hand to the elder twin's shoulder as a response.

"Ouch!" Elladan complained, even if his victorious grin never left his face, one hand rubbing his shoulder exaggeratedly.

"You are horrible." She continued to scold, even if she could not hold back a laugh. Mean as it had been, watching the new students piling on the windows _had_ been funny.

"You enjoyed watching them run desperately to the windows, Sig, I know you did." Elrohir's eyes narrowed in her direction, the train now coming to a full stop, and the students started descending into the moon-lit pavement in a slow, almost lethargic manner.

"Come, let's get out of here before we get stuck behind Hagrid and the newbies." Elladan said, stepping out into the corridor and easily making a way for them through the mass of students. Then again, making way had never been hard for the twins, she was sure they knew positively _everyone_ in the school, so evidently all of their friends would easily let them throw and get ahead in the crowd. She wished she had even half of the popularity the twins had, her life would be so much easier if she did.

It was starting to rain outside, the thin drops of water splattering on her head as she quickly drew up the hood of her robes hurrying to one of the horseless carriages through the crowd with the twins following close behind her.

"First-years, this way!" She could hear Hagrid roaring over the noise, his bulky figure standing out even in the absence of light as a small crowd of nervous kids started to gather around him, some staring at his enormous figure with wide, unbelieving eyes – muggle-born kids most probably. She caught sight of Tilda for a second, standing almost awkwardly among the new students, large blue eyes staring at Hagrid with fascination. She caught her young sister's eyes for only a moment, and she used to wave at her quickly, a gesture that was returned before Hagrid starting to lead the first-years away and towards the boats. She did not envy any of them in the slightest – they would all be soaked once they reached the castle.

The ride in the horseless carriages was uneventful, Arwen and Eowyn sitting with them in silence, the latter with her eyes lazily skimming through the newest edition of _the Quibbler_ , seeming to be mocking the articles rather than actually reading them.

Inside, the castle was as warm and welcoming as it always was, feeling like the home she had abandoned for the few months of summer. Long lighted torches illuminated the old stone walls, so old she swore she could hear them whispering to each other of all the things they had seen and witnessed. Luckily, this year Peeves was not waiting for them at the Entrance Hall with one of his many tricks – which sometimes could prove to be extremely annoying really. Instead, all the students marched with tired feet and hungry stomachs into the majestic Great Hall, were the thousands of candles floated already lighted with warm flames underneath he enchanted ceiling high above their heads. She absently noticed that it was raining too on the enchanted ceiling, as if to perfectly imitate the weather outside.

Sigrid silently made her way to the long Gryffindor table, taking a seat next to Eowyin – her closest friend. She was much too hungry to even think of starting a conversation, only silently wishing for the sorting ceremony to be over soon so that she would enjoy the welcoming banquet. Elladan and Elrhoir sat nearby, next to their friend Aragorn, and she held the urge to roll her eyes at the three of them. They were inseparable, and they were _never_ up to any good when together.

"I'm starving!" Eowyn complained to her right, dropping _the Quibbler_ unceremoniously over the table.

"Yeah, me too." Was all she said as her eyes wondered about the quickly filling up Great Hall, students already chatting loudly among each other as the four tables started to get more and more packed.

"Do you think we will get some good new students? We haven't won the House cup for the past three years." Eowyn kept on talkin, her gorgeous blond hair spilling over her shoulders and onto the table as she leaned her elbows onto the wooden surface.

"I hope so." She replied absentmindedly, her attention suddenly caught by another group of students at the Slytherin table, the farthest from them. He sat in his usual spot, always looking like the King of the table, and surrounded by his minions. Pale face, with features more apt to be in heavenly marble statues rather in actual living beings, staring disinterested around him, perfectly composed and cold. Long platinum hair spilled down his perfect back as his ice colored eyes, of an impacting blue like no other she had ever seen, gazed at the high table for a moment. Sigrid saw the fiery-haired Slytherin girl who seem to always be next to him saying something to him quietly and he turned to answer her, an haughty smirk that made her stomach twist forming on his too perfect face.

"Ugh." She heard Eowyn to her right, her eyes too staring at the Slytherin table. "Another year with Thranduil around. He thinks he is the greatest thing to happen to Hogwarts, and all because his father is stupidly rich."

She let out little chuckle, turning her attention back to the Gryffindor table. She was very well aware of Eowyn's particular hatred for Thranduil ever since the Flying class in which he had by far exceeded her talents. She was the Gryffindor seeker and there was _nothing_ that could put her friend in a sourer mood than admitting that someone could fly better than her. Still, there was something about Thranduil that made him feel absurdly powerful, his face always unreadable, impenetrable, as if merely the way he carried himself, always so graceful, demanded respect and admiration from the fellow students. He was in his sixth year, and had been Prefect of his house and was now Head Boy of his house. He did not seem to have many friends, she had noticed, and yet students always moved out of her way as he walked, the younger ones staring at him in awe.

Thankfully, she did not have much time to ponder on her thoughts, for the large doors of the Great Hall opened once more and a stern-looking McGonagall marched inside in long strides, followed by a line of awed and nervous looking first-years. They stood in a messy line in front of the steps that rose the high table from the rest of them, staring with frightened eyes at the Sorting Hat and stool already waiting form them at the front.

Silence fell over the Great Hall almost immediately, heads moving from left to right to tried to get a better look at the scared new students crammed in front. McGonagall started speaking, but Sigrid was too busy trying to find Tilda in the crown to listen to the speech that she heard every year before the Sorting Ceremony. Her younger sister was one of the closest to the stool, staring at the Hat with fearful blue eyes, next to a boy with long blond hair only a couple of inches taller than her.

"Archiester, Amadora." McGonagall started calling names, and a chubby, freckled girl sat on the stool, nearly trembling in fear.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The Sorting Hat roared almost instantly, and a round of claps and cheers erupted in the Hufflepuff table, eagerly welcoming their new addition.

"Azu, Lee"

"RAVENCLAW!" The Ravenclaw table cheered as the boy rushed in their direction, forgetting to take off the Hat and then having to run back to return it to the stool.

"Barnner, Greg" – "RAVENCLAW!" – "Blaine, Amanda" – SLYTHERIN!" – Her eyes darted to the Slytherin table catching sight of Thranduil clapping lazily there, a ghost of a smile present on his face as his icy eyes pierced through young Amanda as she ran to join them.

"Bowman, Tilda" Her heart stopped, eyes turning to stare as her young sister nearly stumbled up the steps in her rush to reach the stool. Her feet dangled over the floor as she sat, the Hat falling down her head and covering her eyes. Sigrid held her breath, cursing herself for being so protective of her sister, but how was she supposed to take care of her if she ended up in another house? And she waited…and waited…and-

"GRYFFINDOR!" She let out the breath she had been holding, jumping to her feet and joining in the cheers that exploded at the Gryffindor table.

"I did it!" Tilda nearly screamed as she threw herself in Sigrid's embrace, blue eyes shinning with excitement. "I'm a Gryffindor too, Sig! – Hi, Eowyn!" She waved.

"I know!" She congratulated her, watching as she quickly took a seat at the table in one of the few empty spaces, already receiving words of welcome and handshakes from nearly every member of the Gryffindor House.

"Dorner, Frederica" – "GRYFFINDOR!"

Sigrid barely even joined in the cheers this time, still too preoccupied congratulating little Tilda to pay attention to the new dark haired girl that had come almost immediately join her sister. The list went on for a while, without her even paying much attention to the names that had been called, Mariana Kinsar and Phillip Demetrius also joining the Gryffindor table.

"Lasgalen, Legolas." The blond boy that had previously been standing with Tilda sat hesitantly on the stool, blue eyes looking slightly scared as MacGonagall lowered the Sorting Hat onto his silver head.

"SLYTHERIN!" The scared boy visibly relaxed at the Hat's predicament, as if a pressure had been suddenly lifted from his thin shoulders, a small shy smile appearing on his face as he marched towards the cheering Slytherin table. Sigrid turned her attention to the cheering Slytherins, eyes almost immediately falling on Thranduil, surprised to find him smiling and clapping vigorously as young Legolas walked straight to where he was. And it was that she noticed the resemblance, it was almost impossible not to notice it, the same silvery hair that cascaded flawlessly over their shoulder and the same piercing silver-blue eyes porcelain skin. But while Thranduil's gaze seemed cold and impenetrable, Legolas' seemed shy, still touched by boyish innocence as he sat next to his older brother.

"Oh." She heard Tilda sighing almost sad. "He was nice. I hoped he would be in Gryffindor too."

"So there is a little Thranduil now." Came Eowyn's complain to her right, eyes looking at the Slytherin table with disgust. She shrugged turning her attention instead to the exquisite banquet that had magically appeared on their plates. They would start classes tomorrow, and no matter how much she had missed the castle and all of its enchanting halls, she was definitely not excited about all the work and papers that would soon fill her schedule.

She chatted lightly with Eowyn and the twins for the remaining of the feast, both of whom did not look at all pleased to find that Snape was _still_ teaching potions in the castle – both of the twins were terrible at potions, and that did not help with the fact that Snape seemed to like them just as little as they liked him. Only once did she turn her curious eyes once again to the Slytherin table, where Thranduil was chatting as casually with some fellows Slytherins.

The air of haughtiness never left the perfect features of his face, the other Slytherins laughing when he did and silencing when he did. And then, as if he had felt her staring his eyes suddenly flew in her direction, piercing through her and holding her in place like glaciers, so penetrating, so cold and unreadable, a winter sealed behind the ocean blue crystals, making drop her gaze back to her food almost too quickly. She waited for a moment, testing again to see if it was safe to look again, not knowing if it was relief or disappointment when she once again found him chatting almost languidly with his fellow Slytherins, not really seeming interested in the conversation and yet joining along…

Anyways here is the first chapter, although perhaps some of you have already read it! :) I still hope you enjoy this little fun fragment of my imagination.

Love,

Elena


	2. Tell Me

She woke up late the next morning, nearly jumping out of bed and rushing to change in order to make it in time for breakfast before class. Not that she even knew which class she had first! – their schedules were to be given out during breakfast…if she had not already missed it. To her further annoyance, the bedroom she shared in the Gryffindor tower with the five other girls in her class was completely empty. Why had Eowyn not woken her!

Sigrid ran down the stairs two steps at a time, nearly knocking over a second-year student that had been peacefully making his way up the portrait whole. "Why such a hurry?" The Fat Lady had laughed at her, but she thoroughly ignored her, already making her way down the labyrinth of staircases, trying not to listen to the comments she received from the many wizards and witches hanging on the walls, who kept finding it humorous that she was so obviously late.

The Great Hall was already full with students when she arrived, but to her slight relief breakfast did not seem even close to being over. Letting out a relieved sigh, she let her fingers slide through her visibly tangled curls, pulling them up into a messy bun as she made her way to where Eowyn sat already at the long Gryffindor table.

"Why did you not wake me?" She complained, her deep brown eyes staring accusingly into her friends mild gray ones, helping herself to a slightly burnt toast – it seems that all the un-burned ones had already been eaten. Chatter flowed in the expanse of the Great Hall, cheering up the morning with the expectations of a new academic year.

"I did not think you would wake up late." Was the only answer she got, Eowyn handing her a piece of parchment. "Here, I got your schedule. Our first period is Divination – how awful is that?"

Her eyes lowered to the fine scriptures on the parchment only to find the first two time slots under the Monday column filled with the delicate letters that read DIVIATION, and it was with the Ravenclaw students.

"Do we have the same classes this year too?" She asked matter of factly, giving up on trying to bite the toast that only kept crumbling into her mouth in dry dust.

"Yeah. I already checked. And we also have most of them with the twins."

Her warm eyes searched almost absently down the long Gryffindor table, noticing both Elladna and Elrohir hunched over the same edition of the Daly Prophet, seeming to be reading it intently. A slight frown creased on her delicate eyebrows as she became aware that the twins were not the only students perched over the wizarding newspaper. On the contrary, it seemed that every student in the Great Hall was reading over it, some of them gathered in groups as one student read out loud, whispers and murmurs traveling from ear to ear until they bounded up the deaf stone walls and disappeared through the sunny enchanted ceiling above.

"Un-believable" Elladan said as he pushed the Daily Prophet back against the table, sitting back on his chair with an expression she found hard to read.

"What is it?" She asked, already too curious for her own good.

"Eowyn you've got to see this." Elrhoir stood up, carelessly sliding the newspaper across the table and nearly knocking over at least three cups of pumpkin juice in the process, saved only by their quick owners who were always fast to react whenever any of the twins was concerned.

Sigrid's pale hand reached for the paper first, quickly placing it on the table in between Eowyn and her, so that they both could read what it said.

"Has someone escaped from Azkaban?" She heard Eowyn's soft voice next to her, the sound dripping with curiosity that only made her own grow. Sigrid did not answer, slender hands already flipping through the printed pages, trying to find any article that would merit the attention of nearly all of the school on the first morning of the term.

And sure enough she found it. There, right before her very eyes in page number twelve read the tittle

 **"EGLISH TEAM IN THE RUN FOR THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP".**

Her eyes almost immediately started diving through the article, not giving the tittle a second thought.

" _Yesterday evening England's Quidditch team's Coach, Philius Piers, happily announced that with their new seeker in hand, England's under seventeen Quidditch Team was once again in the run for the Junior World cup. "With Willinburg now being over eighteen years of age, we did not know if we would be able to find a suitable replacement. However we think we might have found a more than suitable fill for the empty spot. In fact, I am confident that Englad now has a very good chance of winning the cup this year." – shared Piers to the press last night. New English seeker, Thranduil Lasgalen, is a student crossing his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wrizardry, and plays the same part at the Slytherin House's Quidditch team. "His match records were very impressive, and we are always eager to welcome young students into the big league teams as most of the times they show the mot potential"- said Piers fondly of new seeker Lasgalen. – "Of course, he could have played for the Irish National team, being of Irish heritage from his Mother's side, but we feel confident that the Irish will not try to steal-_

"What?" Eowyn's gasp made her stop reading mid-sentence as a pair of quick hands snatched the paper from her. Not that she needed to keep reading anything else, she already knew what the fuss that ran quietly over the Great Hall was about.

"He's playing professionally now? With the under-seventeen national team?" Eowynn's gray eyes turned expectantly form one twin to the other and Sigird fought the urge to roll her eyes at her friend's clear tone of dislike. With all honesty – even if Eowyn was her closest friend since childhood- Thranduil was a far better seeker than her. Not that Eowyn was not good, no, but still there had not been a single Gryffindor – Slytherin match in which she had managed to catch the snitch before Lasgalen. Not that she cared about who was playing for which team anyway.

"Is that even allowed?" Eowyn continued, her pride taking always the most of her.

"Why wouldn't be?" Aragorn chimed in, suddenly making her aware of his presence only some spots to her left. "He's not the first student to play national. Besides it has nothing to do with the in-school Quidditch Cup."

Sigrid did not pay any more attention to the conversation, her eyes wondering to the Slytherin table in the far back, but not finding the figure she had been looking for. She did find the younger Lasgalen brother though, Legolas – if she remembered correctly from the Sorting Ceremony the night before. He was sitting peacefully at the long table, not seeming to be even aware of the muttering going on around him as he chatted with the red-haired girl she usually saw next to Thranduil.

She ignored the conversation for the duration of breakfast, not really wanting to admit to anyone that even though she really enjoyed the sport, talking about Quidditch the whole morning was not her king of thing. And by the looks of it, today Quidditch would be the topic spoken of the entire day. She had never been good at playing it – in truth she was very bad. She could not even fly properly, preferring to have both of her feet firmly on the ground.

Divination class was exactly as she had anticipated it would be. The dimly lit room in the tower smelled intensely of strange herbs she had rather not known what they were, the usual trinkets and strange artifact dangling form the walls in a creepy manner that always made chills travel down her spine. Professor Trelawney – with her too large round glasses that made her eyes pop out more that necessary- had made them chart the alignment of the planets over the past sixty years, and try to predict what had their alignment forecasted. As usual she only had to come up with creative ways of announcing catastrophes and deaths to do a good job in class, trying hard to suppress her laughter as Elladan and Elrohir kept affirming that the precise positioning of Jupiter meant that the Giant Squid would grow legs and start teaching at Hogwarts – a thing that certainly didn't seem funny at all to Trelawney.

The muttering and gossiping about the Daily Prophet's article did not stop during their Care for Magical Creatures class, and neither for their double Transfiguration period after lunch- where McGonagall had once again managed to fill their schedules with unnecessary homework that would meant she would have to study late hours on her very first weekend.

It was now near the end of the day, and Sigrid found herself walking almost reluctantly next to the twins to the torturing double hors of Potions. She was not bad at Potions – in fact she was relatively good- but that did not mean she enjoyed the claustrophobic feel of the humid dungeon walls that echoed hollowly to their footsteps as they descended ample wet staircases and into the dreaded Potion's classroom. And only to make matters worse, her double Potion's hours was with the Slytherin students, which only meant that Snape would only pick on the Gryffindors.

Sigrid walked to the table farthest to the back, throwing her thick book on the surface – which lifted a cloud of gray dust – and proceeded to take out her cauldron and possible ingredients she would need for the class, Eowyn taking the seat next to her. As usual, the classroom was dimly lit by a frail greenish light, making the space seem sickening in a very revolting way, flasks with all sort of slimy things and strange plants filling the tilted shelves on the walls. Two lit torches were the only source of light for the underground room, their fire not doing anything to warm the humid cold that clung to her like a lovers embrace through the long shadows. As customary, the Slytherin fourth-year students filled the firsts rows of the classroom, the Gryffindors eager to hide in the darker back from Snape's piercing black eyes.

The wooden door closed with a sudden bang, making her jump slightly as her heart leapt abruptly. Silence fell in the room louder than a thunder, the black cloak of Professor Snape dragging behind him like a bat's wings as he strode to the front, greasy black hair framing his cold, severe face and hook-like nose. There was no space for further chatter, all of the student's looking intently at the front, as if they already dreaded the course that was about to start.

"Open your books in page 27." Snape's icy deep voice dragged languidly as he spoke, the chilled sound making her shudder slightly as his black hard eyes waltzed over the darkened room, seeming to see everything, not a detail escaping him.

Sigrid did not hesitate, fighting hard to suppress an annoyed sigh as she opened her brand-new copy of _Potion Making Level Four_ in the indicated page, reading the procedures to making a _Girding Potion._

"And you would think that he would waste any time in giving an introduction to the class before throwing us already into making potions again." Eowyn whispered lowly next to her.

"Is there something you would like to share with the class, miss Rohan?" Snape's voice trailed to them, and she watched Eowyn suddenly pale beside her, shaking her head no. "Then why do you not come sit at the front? Perhaps your class participation will then be audible to everyone in the room." One grayish long hand motioned solely to an empty place next a Slytherin student, Eowyn paling even more as she was forced to stand form her spot and sit all the way to the front, leaving Sigrid without a partner to complete the potion with.

"And ten points from Gryffindor due to miss Rohan's blabber."

Anger boiled inside of Sigrid's chest, her eyes flying to look at the twins who seemed about to stand up and protest if they did not know any better, and all she could do was focus her attention on the page so her book as to not do anything rash.

"Now, who can tell me-

Snape was interrupted by the sound of the heavy wooden doors suddenly being opened, a low muttering growing in the room as her eyes travelled to find no other than Thranduil Lasgalen walking firmly in Snapes' direction, ice blue eyes not stopping to look at the many gazes that followed his tall figure and muttered around him. She watched him handing Snape some sort of parchment, which Snape's cold black eyes scanned silently for a second before he spoke again.

"Silence." He commanded, and once again silence fell over the room in a single second, even if the many curious gazes remained glued at Thranduil's back. And she watched too, noticing how he did not seem to be paying any sort of attention to the penetrating stares that followed him, his long silvery hair flowing down his back in a perfect waterfall, standing some inches taller than Snape himself.

Without a single word, Snape's long bony hand motioned to the corner where she sat, his movements always slow and vaporous, as if he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased. Her stomach turned as she realized that the only place left in the room was the one next to her – where Eowyn had been previously sitting. She did not know what she felt, but certainly not comfortable as Thranduil's lean and tall figure silently took the seat next to her, his piercing blue eyes not even turning to look at her in acknowledgement, his face as composed and unreadable as ever and she turned her gaze back to the front feeling tenser than she had at the beginning of the lesson. What was he doing in their class? He was in his sixth year and this class was for the fourth-years. Had he failed and had to re-take it? Twice?

She felt even more revolted and angered as she watched Snape's eyes following Thranduil with a slight vicious smile, letting her immediately know that there _would_ be favoritism in this class. There always was, usually biasing the Slytherins – as Snape was Head of their house- but with now Thranduil being the talk of the school there would be no doubt that he would be Snape's favored student in the class.

"As I was previously saying." Snape continued, all eyes once again focusing on his bat-like figure at the front "Who can tell me what the function of a Girding Potion is?"

She watched all eyes turn to look down at the books, clearly no one wanting to make eye-contact and be called on by Snape.

"Nobody?"

She raised her hand, not really knowing what mad her do it.

"Yes, miss-"

"Bowman" She said, feeling another pang of anger at Snape's clear disinterest in even learning her name. She had been in his class for three years now!

"Yes, miss Bowman?"

"The Girding Potion may be consumed to increase one's endurance for a considerable number of weeks." She spoke, her voice sounding frailer than she would have liked, clearly showing the lack of confidence she was feeling under Snape's penetrating eyes.

"Almost copied from the textbook. Now tell me miss, Bowman, will your lack or creativity or ability to think of ways of phrasing words by yourself interfere with your performance during this class?" Anger boiled inside of her, raging in her veins worse than before, making her regret thinking that getting a correct answer would be possible in Snape's class. She did not answer the question that had been thrown unjustly at her, knowing that it was better to hold her tongue than trying to say anything else for the duration of the class.

"Perhaps it is indeed a good thing that Mr. Lasgalen is sitting next to you. Maybe you will actually learn something this year."

Her eyes flew to glare at the pages of her book, not daring to look anywhere else as she dug her nails into her fists in rage. Snape continued speaking, but she was no longer paying attention, simply focusing on trying not to yell anger as she took her quill and started to angrily scratch over her piece of parchment, making it seem she was taking notes. She dared lift her eyes only tentatively in Thranduil's direction, his pale unreadable face still gazing straight at the front, not single reaction to what Snape had said visible on those angular features.

He simply sat there, next to her, without eve acknowledging that there was anyone next to him, so arrogant, the emerald lining of his Slytherin robes contrasting sharply against the icy blue color of his impenetrable irises. He had not even opened his book, but she doubted that he would need to put any kind of effort in this class in order to get a perfect score. It made her stomach turn even more, and she once again set herself to scratching her parchment with her quill, thoroughly ignoring what Snape continued to say.

"-Am I correct, Ms. Bowman?"

Her head shot up, eyes glancing at the clock to find out that she had zoned out for about half and hour of what Snape had been saying, the Professor's expectant black eyes staring maliciously at her, lips smiling at the answer he knew she could not give him. Sigrid stayed silent, not daring to break the eye-contact but not daring to open her mouth. She had not heard what Snape had been saying and had no idea what it was that had been asked to her.

"Were you not paying attention?" The Potion's Professor's cold voice dripped with victory as he kept questioning her, greasy hair falling over his too pale face. "Can you not tell me the effect that dragonfly thoraxes have on poison remedy potions?"

She shook her head, wishing she could answer the question but not knowing the answer. To her further annoyance, Snape's smile only grew slightly.

"Pity." He said, cold dripping form his voice and clinging to the massive stone walls. "Perhaps Mr. Lasgalen would have the trouble of enlightening you. Care to tell Ms. Bowman what are the effects of dragonfly thoraxes on poison remedies, Mr. Lasgalen?

Snape's victorious eyes turned to look at the Slytherin seeker sitting next to her, and she lowered her gaze in shame and anger as she waited for Snape's clearly favored student to answer the question she could not.

"I don't know, sir." She lifted her eyes, looking at Snape's slightly surprised face. Next to her, Thranduil remained as stoic and unreadable as ever, ice blue eyes staring at Snape blankly as his deep voice echoed quietly in the room.

"You do not know?" Snape repeated slowly, as if not wanting to believe the answer he had been given, mouth twisting in cold disappointment.

"No, sir." Thranduil repeated, his face still unreadable, eyes impenetrable.

"The dragonfly thoraxes are…" Snape's voice trailed off around the silent room, merely continuing through his class as if Thranduil had delivered a perfect answer, and it once again made her veins boil to find out that Slythering had not lost any points because of that. Had it been Gryffindor she was sure Snape would have subtracted at least fifty points for that blunt answer. And yet, as her eyes wondered over the table she shared with the tall Slytherin Seeker and fell over the parchment where he had been silently taking notes in his perfectly tilted calligraphy, her eyes could neatly read down at the bottom of the page all the things that Snape had previously said about dragonfly thoraxes. He had known the answer. He had notes on it on his parchement. Then why had he not said he knew?

At that moment, however, the enchanted clock on the wall announced the end of classes, students eagerly standing up before Snape could say anything and quickly packing their books back in their bags. Beside her, Thranduil quickly stood up, once again not even bothering to look at her – or at anyone for that matter- fastly gathering his things and striding outside the room before anyone else.

"I hate Snape." Elladan complained as they tiredly made their way up the stairs form the dungeons.

"He made me sit at the front!" Eowyn joined in the rain of complaints that had been falling out of the twins mouth's ever since they left the classroom. "And he kept picking on you, Sig!"

"Yeah, he did." She said, no longer finding herself angered, her hunger taking control of her at the moment, eager to arrive to the Great Hall.

"Oh but his face when his star student Lasgalen could not answer his question was the best I've seen in a while." Eowyn continued, and she did not miss the disgust in her friend's voice as she pronounced the Slytherin Seeker's name.

"Yeah, that was the best." She agreed half-heartedly, already zoning out on some sort of gossip that Elladan and Elrohir were rambling about. She did not know why, but she had not wanted to say to Eowyn that Thranduil had indeed known the answer Snape's question. He had not done so in class. But then why?

Here's the second chapter! I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

Love,

Elena


	3. Sugar Quills

October arrived with its usual chilled breezes that carried away thousands of orange and reds leaves, floating like sparks under the cloudy skies. Much to the student's chagrin, it also meant that the work load had nearly doubled and many were forced to spend late hours on the library writing long and tedious reports for the many courses they were taking. And it seemed that as Saturday approached, bringing with it the first outing to Hogsmeade, the ambience felt more and more desperate, the longing to step out of these heavy stone walls and dizzying homework becoming tangible.

A book landed heavily in front of her on the long wooden table, her favorite and most frequented table in the library. Sigrid looked up, deep brown eyes easily finding her friend's mild greyish blue ones, looking at her almost expectantly. It was already dark outside, classes having ended a couple of hours ago.

"You are still here?" Eowyn's voice reproached her, her friend's thin pale arms crossing over her chest, her long blond hair falling in neat waves that perfectly framed her beautiful face. Sigrid rolled her eyes, not even attempting to hide her annoyance.

"I haven't finished McGonagall's report." Was all she provided as an answer, delicate fingers placing back a strand of hair that had rebelliously fallen out of her long braid. A pity of an excuse and she knew it, but she just wanted some moments of peace to read.

"You'll never finish McGonagall's report, Sig." Her friend complained, even though she could very well see the little smile playing at the corner of her lips, almost making fun of her as she let herself drop onto the chair directly in front of her. "You always work until the last minute, and frankly I don't know _how_ , because you are the most organized person I know!"

"Oh, shush!." She chastised, fighting her urge to roll her eyes as she simply closed the books piled in front of her and threw her parchment full of annotations carelessly inside her bag before fixing her attention once more on her impatient friend. "So why are _you_ here? I know you did _not_ come to study."

At this Eowyn's eyes twinkled with a newfound excitement that Sigrid knew could only bring either trouble or humiliation for her.

"No." She hurried to say, already standing up before her friend quickly pushed her back down.

"You have not even heard me yet!" Eowyn complained, and she crossed her arms, giving her friend a skeptical look as she gave her a chance to speak.

"I heard that the Slytherins are running their Quidditch team trials right now, and I thought that maybe we should go check them out. You know, see how they fly and what their strategies are. I refuse to lose against them this year!"

"Are we even allowed to go there? Would that not be cheating?"

She was already dreading the thought of sitting there in the Quiddicth field and hearing her friend talking on and on about how they could do to win this year. Eowyn and the twins would go on and on about strategies and techniques and speak in a jargon that sounded more like a foreign language to her. In all honestly, she could not have cared less about who won the House cup that year, but apparently that was all that Eowyn could think of. She did not want to waste her evening sitting there just watching, but then again, if it was the Slytherin Quidditch team they were watching, it meant that Thranduil Lasgalen would be there, and something about him still immensely ignited her curiosity and fascination.

He still showed up for their potions class regularly, but thank Merlin had never again sat next to her, Eowyn taking her usual spot by her side. He sat at the front of the dungeon, to one corner, always surrounded by his Slytherin followers, and never participated in class either, never raising his hand or answering any questions posed by Snape.

"It is not as if it is forbidden to watch the Quidditch trials, Sig. Come on! Pleeaassseeeee." Her friend begged, already standing up and starting to drag her out of the library. No matter how much Sigrid complained, she would not manage to get out of this one.

"Fine." She agreed half-heartedly, following her friend out of the library and through the endless stone corridors. "But you owe me a butterbeer in Hogsmeade this weekend."

"Deal!" Her friend squealed, her long golden hair cascading messily down her back as she nearly ran down to the Quidditch field, Sigrid having to hurry in order to catch up.

When they arrived there, the trials had already started, a bunch of students already flying on their broomsticks at a speed that made it almost impossible to discern a single face. To her surprise – no, she wasn't really surprised at all- Elladan and Elrohir were already there waiting for them, sitting at the lowest row of seats, where they could pass almost unseen by the rest of the small spectating crowd.

"I knew you would come." Elladan teased Eowyn as soon as they sat down, silver eyes grinning along with his playful smirk. "You could not handle the curiosity of not knowing exactly who would be your competition."

"Oh, shut up, Peredhel." Eowyn replied, not able to hold back a small laugh.

"Do you want some treats?" Elrohir chimed in, his eyes sparkling with the same playfulness as his identical twin, holding up a small paper bag filled with all sorts of deliciously looking pastries.

"I'd be turned into a Grindylow before I accept something edible coming from either of you, Ro." Sigrid said, trying not to laugh at the twins' exaggeratedly offended expression.

"These are from the kitchen, Sig, it's safe to eat them. All we did was steal them from it." Elladan declared proudly, and suspiciously she allowed herself to take one of the pastries from the bag, about to give it a generous bite when Elrohir interrupted her once more.

"Or perhaps we did do something to them, did we not, Dan? I cannot seem to remember?" He mocked, his face a mask of faked confusion, making her automatically drop the pastry back in the bag with its sibblings.

"I dunno, Ro, did we?"

"Nevermind, I'm not having any of those." She concluded, her eyes sweeping once again through the flying students as the small crowd suddenly erupted in cheers, leaving her slightly confused for a second.

"What happened?" She could hear Elrohir asking Eowyn silently. Apparently the younger twin had been too preoccupied counting his pastries to noticed what was going on around them.

"Someone just scored." Was Eowyn's short explanation, and Sigrid let her deep brown eyes follow the lean flying figure cheering along with the crowd near the goal posts.

"I despise her." She heard Elladan muttering to her right, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Who is she?" Sigrid asked, her eyes still studying the girl that just managed to score the first goal in the trials. She had long dark hair, nearly black, falling perfectly straight in a single ponytail, and even thought she could not make any specific features from the distance, she could tell that she was indeed very beautiful.

"That's Alexis Sonnet, she's a fifth-year, and has been in the team for the past three years I think. And she _always_ scores first in every single match." There was a deep stain of bitterness in Elladan's voice as he spoke that only made her chuckle in return, receiving a glare from his silver eyes.

"And who is the keeper?" She hurried herself to ask, searching to deviate the conversation, her eyes once again flying up to stare at the clumsy looking student guarding the goals posts, who seemed to be lacking some confidence and instead looked positively scared right where he was. A few meters above, she could see the tall figure of Lasgalen sitting still on his broomstick, seeming to be carefully observing the trials from high above. Was he the captain? She was not sure, but he must be, right?

"That one is Bernny Bouchard. It's sad that he's the only one trying out for keeper this year." Elladan laughed, silver eyes filled with mirth. "They might have a very good set of chasers, but with poor Bernny guarding the rings it will not be hard to score."

She laughed too, the small Slytherin crowd once again erupting in a round of cheers as Alexis Sonnet scored a second goal, leaving the poor Bernny with his small rounded face all red with embarrassment, sweating with nerves. Alfter a while, or what seemed like an eternity to her, the flying students finally descended back to the ground, meeting in a small circle at the center of the field, no doubt to hear the results of the trial. As she had guessed, Thranduil was indeed the captain of the team, the rest of the students circling around his tall lean figure as he spoke to them, even though she could not hear a single word he was saying through the distance. His long silvery hair looked as perfect as ever, looking almost white under the ghostly moonlight, his face always serious, impossible to catch a single emotion, a single thought through that marbled pale skin.

"So that is Downy, Kim, Bouchard, Park, Sonnet…"She could hear Eowyn listing silently the names of the students who had apparently made it to the team, but she did not manage to hear all of the names.

Something else had caught her attention in the middle of the field, something that to her horror and shock made her stomach tie into a tight unpleasant knot, accompanied with a feeling she had never experienced before, but was now utterly sure she disliked. The Slytherins were now walking back towards the changing rooms in silence, some of them dragging their broomsticks carelessly behind them, their emerald robes glistening in accordance to the nightly-lit grass. Alexis Sonnet had one of her pale bony arms wrapped around Thranduil's middle as they walked, seeming to be clinging to him in a way that made her suddenly have the urge to break that delicate arm into pieces. The dark haired chaser was smiling up at him saying something she could not hear, a green monster appearing in her stomach as she saw him lean down to kiss her lightly.

"Ha! So Lasgalen has a new girlfriend." She pretended not to have heard Elrohir chanting mockingly, seeming to enjoy the situation she clearly did not, even if she did not show it. "Oh, Slytherin girls are going to be crushed."

She looked away, the image still engraved in her mind and she could not find it in herself to even participate in the conversation as she followed Elladan, Elrohir and Eowyn back into the castle, the three of them still talking about what would be their game strategy for this year. She even tried to reason with herself, telling her that it should not have bothered her at all to have seen Thranduil Lasgalen kissing Alexis Sonnet. She did not even know him! Had never even talked to him once! And yet somehow it did bother her, as irrational as it was. And of course he would have a girlfriend, he was simply strikingly handsome, the most popular, most admired Slytherin who so happened to be the seeker and captain of the Quidditch team, Head Boy of his house, top student in his class, heir of a well-known family of stupidly rich and influential wizards, _and_ was now to be a professional Quidditch player. What had made her even _think_ that there was a chance he would be single.

They marched all the way up to the Gryffindor tower, Sigrid not once even pretending to be listening to their conversation any longer – not that she was at all interested in Quidditch - and as soon as they had reached the common room, she hurried to sit at the farthest corner of the room, by one of the largest windows overlooking the grounds, and quickly drew out her books and halfway written report, diving into them as an excuse for no one to talk to her. And to her relief no one did, all of them once again assuming that she was only worried about her homework, none of them even noticing that her mind was completely out of the written words in front of her.

The next day came by with what seemed to be a fresh start, Sigrid happy to find that she felt once again untroubled, somehow managing to put that green monster that had appear so suddenly and unexpectedly – and irrationally- back inside a little deep box in the farthest corner of her mind. The chilled air drummed against the window panes, carrying dried leaves off al tones of gold and red with it as she and Eowyn lazily made their way down into the spacious common room. It was finally Saturday, and frankly she could not wait one more second to be outside the castle walls and strolling around the charming little town of Hogsmeade.

"It's freezing outside today." Was all Elrohir said as a greeting as he met them at the end of the small staircase by the fireplace, wrapping his red and gold scarf securely around him.

"Where's Dan?" She asked, quickly finishing up buttoning her cloak and grabbing a few things before starting to head the portrait hole. She checked her pockets quickly, counting a few couple of galleons, but that would be enough money for their trip today. She did not have very much.

"I've no idea." Came Elrohir's reply as he shrugged, clearly not interested in his twin's affairs at the moment. "I just want to go get some breakfast. I'm starving."

"Sigrid!" A little voice called behind her, and she immediately turned, just in time to see her little sister approaching quickly down the small staircase, already dressed in her day clothes.

"Can I come with you? please? I want to go to Hogsmeade too." Tilda begged, her large blue eyes pleading with that puppy dog look she had learned to master over the years, and it didn't matter that her sister was now eleven years old, that looked still fit her perfectly.

"Tilda, you know you can't until you're a third-year." She explained again, watching as the girl rolled her azure eyes and crossed her arms rebelliously.

"But there's nothing to do here. I want to go too!"

"I don't make the rules." She laughed. "Go outside with Bain, maybe walk around the lake, that's fun isn't it?" She suggested, but from the look that the girl threw her, her suggestion had not sounded fun to her at all.

"I guess I'll do something with Frederica. Maybe Legolas will join us too." Tilda's face fell as she spoke, and Sigrid's curiosity had her biting her tongue in order to force herself not to ask about her sister's friendship with the younger Lasgalen. "Will you bring me something, Sig? A sugar quill? Please?"

"Alright." She agreed, turning back and hurrying to catch Eowyn and Elrohir who were already marching down the stairs and towards the Great Hall.

Breakfast went uneventful, Sigrid happily chewing on her toast as she read the Daily Prophet, but nothing new seemed to have happened – or at least nothing that she considered merited her attention and interest- and sooner than she had expected she found herself walking excitedly down to the Entrance Hall, followed by Eowyn and Elrhoir, as McGonagall counted them as she let them walk in a line outside into the chilled grounds and towards the small nearby town.

"It's really cold." Eowyn complained as she braced her dark winter cloak tighter against her, burying her chin in her red and gold scarf.

"Told you." Elrohir teased from behind her. "Eh! Strider!" She heard Elrohir yelling, completely uncaring of McGonagall's disapproving look at his behavior as he hurried to catch up with Aragorn who walked a couple of meters in front of them, the two of them already laughing about something and positively seeming to be up to no good.

"Do you want to head to the three broomsticks?" Eowyn suggested as they made their way down the crowded little alleyways of the town. Students were hurrying to get into any business in order to get out of the chilled October wind, rushing past each other and chatting loudly among them.

"I've got to go to Honeydukes f-." She was cut-off as a small crowd of overly excited Ravenclaw's collided with her, managing to make her fall ungracefully to the ground as they passed, a Ravenclaw girl also rolling to the ground next to her.

Sigrid rushed to get back on her feet, throwing a hysterically laughing Eowyn a deathly glare before quickly brushing away the dirt from her black cloak and the few red leaves that had stranded in her hair.

"Sorry." Said the Ravenclaw girl without even so much throwing a look at her before rushing to catch up with the rest of the crowd of giggling girls, who were also heading into the Three Broomsticks by the looks of it. Now she was sure they would have a lot of trouble in trying to find a decent table to sit. She only prayed it would not be one of those uncomfortable corners in the back of the place where Madame Rosmerta could barely see them and would take ages to deliver their orders.

"Why the rush?" She asked in a lightly annoyed tone, adjusting her scarf so that the wind would not chill her to the bone. If this was the October weather this year, she was really dreading what December would bring. "One would think that they would run out of butterbeer."

"Who knows?" Eowyn shrugged, managing to control her fits of laughter. "Do you mind if I go to Zonko's while you go into Honeydukes? I want to check if they have anything interesting there."

"Sure" She agreed. "I'll meet you here in while then."

Ewoyn nodded her head, already starting to march away and she turned around to enter the cozy little candy store that she could already see was also packed with students. The chatter inside the local was so loud that she did not even hear the little golden bell ringing at the door to announce her entrance, and the smell of all sorts of magical sweets filled her nostrils as she slowly made her way through the cluttered shelves, all packed with all sorts of enchanted candy.

It did not take her long to find the sugar quills, all standing beautifully in one of the lowest shelves, of more colors and flavors than she remembered. She picked one almost randomly – Tilda would like any really. The sugar quill was not really expensive, so that meant that she would still have enough to have a butterbeer and lunch later with Eowyn – and Elrohir if he decided to make an appearance. And where was Elladan anyway? They had seen him all day, and that was starting to make her suspicious. He was up to something.

"Excuse me." A deep voice from behind her nearly made her jump in surprise and she turned around quickly only to find no other than the tall figure of Thranduil Lasgalen standing right in front of her, ice blue eyes fixed on her with their usual concealment, unreadable, impenetrable. She stood there, trying not to show her surprise on her face as she quickly placed a lock of her long blond hair behind her ear, not really knowing what else to do with her hands.

"You're standing in front of the shelves." Thranduil continued, throwing her a slightly puzzled look, and she was sure that at that moment she must have looked stupid.

"Of course." She said, not really sounding friendly, slowly stepping to one side so that he could reach the shelves behind her. She turned around, already starting to march away when his voice stopped her before she could move.

"Can I ask you which of these is better?" He turned around to face her once more, his expression as composed and silent as it always was, and yet somehow the tone of his voice did not carry any of the arrogance that she had always imagined it would, based on all the things she had heard about him. She turned to face him once more, finding him pointing at the long line of sugar quills. "I see you're getting one so you must know."

"It depends on which flavor you like." She answered logically, not really understanding his question. And to her surprise the faintest of chuckles left his mouth.

"That's the thing, I don't like any."

"Then why are you getting one?" She questioned before she could even think of it, and she was sure that this time she had not managed to hide her confusion from showing on her face.

"It's not for me." Was his short reply, not giving out any details, a thick eyebrow raising high into his flawless forehead as he continued speaking. "Can you help me decide, or not?"

"And you don't like _any_ of the hundreds of flavors that are here?" She crooked her head as she asked once more.

"I don't like candy."

"That's impossible. _Everyone_ likes a least one sort of candy." She spoke again before she could even stop her tongue. Everyone liked candy, right? Not all types of candy, but at least one? She studied his face to see if he was merely having fun at her expense and laughing internally at her, but once more found herself staring at those ice colored yes that let nothing past their glacier barrier.

"Alright then," She spoke again, feeling more awkward by the second. "Then, take this one. It's my favorite." She said, randomly pointing at one of the sugar quills on the shelf and watching as he picked it in his slender hands and carefully read the label on it, his face suddenly portraying a surprisingly amused expression.

"Spicy mustard?" He read the label out loud, and it once again took all of her will power to not let her eyes widen and her face blush as he looked her over skeptically, seeming to be clearly very amused at her choice. "That is your favorite, and the best you can recommend?"

Oh he was totally judging her now, she could tell, and somehow –although she never really knew _how_ \- she managed to keep her expression firm and steady, cursing her luck that the quill she had to point to had to be the one with the most eccentric of flavors.

"Yes, it is. And what do you know if you don't like candy?" She replied, even though her stomach wanted to lurch at the thought of even trying that sugar quill. It must taste awful.

"Alright…." He spoke, the expression on his eyes clearly one that seemed to be greatly questioning her choice of flavor, but deciding not to fight her in the matter. Sigrid opened her mouth to say something in return but another voice suddenly interrupted them.

"Thranduil! I found them!" A cascade of silky dark hair suddenly appeared around a corner, a delicate pale arm wrapping around Thranduil's while a thin hand held up a transparent bag full of something that appeared to be some sort of chocolate covered candy. The girl's eyes suddenly flickered in her direction, surprise evident in her face as she offered Sigrid a polite – yet not very friendly- smile. "Who's your friend?"

For the first time she saw a look of surprise cross Thranduil's expression as he opened his mouth to speak but not really saying anything. Of course he did not know her name, why had she even thought he would.

"I'm Sigrid." She introduced herself, holding out a hand that much to her surprise the stunning girl standing in front of her took. "We're not really friends, I was just helping…" she blabbered, as she always did when not knowing what to say.

"Alexis." The girl said, and she felt glad to be interrupted in her blabber. Of course she had already known the girl's name. And still, looking at the dark-haired chaser from a closer distance she somehow managed to look even more beautiful than she had the night before. Her eyes were the palest shade of green she had ever seen, like a mossy clear swamp, hidden under perfectly curled and thick eyelashes. She was tall, but still shorter than Thranduil himself, and every single part of her body seemed to have been cut out perfectly by expert sculptors.

"Should we go?" Alexis' pale eyes looked up at Thranduil, a pearly smile adorning her already striking face, and she saw him silently nodding his head as he took the little bag of chocolates in his hand, along with the spicy mustard flavored quill, and turned to head towards the counter to pay.

She felt incredibly stupid as she stood there for a while, waiting for a couple of students to stand in the line first before she too headed towards the counter to pay. She did not want to stand right behind Thranduil and his girlfriend as they made the line, she already felt plain enough by simply being in the same room as that girl.

"Next in line?" She looked up from her wondering thoughts as a short, funny-looking witch called from the other end of the counter, and she hurried in her direction, her eyes quickly flickering over Thranduil and the stunning girl who were currently paying at the opposite counter. Alexis still had her arm looped through his strong one, but this time he too had an arm wrapped loosely around her waist as his other hand took out of his pocket what seemed to be handful of galleons.

"That will be ten sickles." The witch's voice made her attention turn back to her and she nodded her head, sticking her hand into her pocket, only to find it empty. Panic rushed through her as she let her hand search through every single corner of her pocket, and then search the other one as well. Nothing. She must have dropped what she had when that bunch of Ravenclaw girls ran her over on the street outside.

"Ten sickles, miss" The witch repeated, clearly getting somewhat impatient there waiting.

"I…"She started, letting out a long sigh before simply shaking her head. "Never mind, I guess I'm not taking it. Thanks." She said feeling disappointed and, by the look the witch was throwing her, now also embarrassed. How could she have lost her money?!

Biting her lower lip and sticking her hands in her now empty pockets, Sigrid turned around and headed towards the door. She would just have to ask Eowyn to pay for her lunch and she would just pay her friend back at the castle. Well, it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but still she would not be able to bring Tilda anything. She guessed her sister would forgive her easily for it. It didn't take her long to reach the door, softly pushing it open and shivering slightly as the chilled wind immediately filtered in.

"Miss!" Someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned around only to find the funny-looking witch that had helped her at the counter holding a brown paper bag for her to take. "You're leaving your sugar quill behind, dear."

"Oh, I didn't buy…" She hurried to explain apologetically, but the short witch interrupted her once more, dropping the bag on her hands, which Sigrid nearly let fall on the floor as she hurried to hold it.

"The young man paid for it." She said, pointing with one of her long-fingered hands to someone outside in the street before quickly turning around and heading back towards the counter, leaving her standing there, halfway in and halfway out of the popular candy shop. Her eyes quickly looked up in the direction the witch had pointed, finding no other than Thranduil's back as he walked farther and farther away from the shop, an arm still wrapped around Alexis' tiny waist.

Here's chapter 3! I hope you enjoy it. I know the story progresses a little slowly at the beginning but hopefully it'll pick up the pace soon. Let me know what you think!

And thank you so much to those of you who reviewed the first two chapters, as usual your words mean a lot to me: Amsim, Eryniel Greenleaf, and Rita Orca.

Love,

Elena


	4. Peek

As the week progressed, the load of work only intensified, much to the students' dismay. The chilled autumn breeze made the golden leaves dance behind the many windows in the castle, and the warm air filled with the scent of pumpkin pie that filled the Great Hall seemed all the most inviting as Halloween quickly approached.

For the most time, Sigrid spent her days attending her regular classes and then forced to retreat in to the library or the Gryffindor common room to finish the ever growing pile of papers and homework. Eowyn joined her almost every evening, and she was ever amazed at her friend's ability to concentrate and get work done while complaining non-stop about the work load. Professor Flitwick had assigned them a paper about the history of levitating spells and its best uses, while McGonagall had them practicing how to turn a hat into a singing bird – which so far no one but Elladan and Elrohir had been able to do, a thing that seem to surprise everyone in class.

And Snape, oh Snape had not stopped picking on the Gryffindors every chance he got during potions, and it seemed that every period they got with Snape meant that Gryffindor would lose from ten to fifty points for whichever reason he could find. She would always sit at the back of the dark classroom, next to Eowyn and the twins, and pray that she would not be called on for any answer. But they all soon learned that Snape only ever called on Lasgalen, and he always either refused to answer or delivered a perfect answer. It never ceased to enrage her.

She had not spoken to Lasgalen since their encounter in Honeydukes two weeks past, and she had never had the chance to thank him for paying for the sugar quill she was going to gift Tilda when she had lost her money. Bu then again, he did not ever even turn to look at her in class and she figured that he most not even remember of her existence, so why bother thanking him when he would even remember her name.

"I hate Herbology." Eowyn's voice complained to her left as they crossed the vast green land back towards the castle, leaving the greenhouses behind. A group of Hufflepuff boys walked closely beside them, seeming to be chattering excitedly about the class and only making Eowyn roll her eyes at them.

"I do not mid it" She answered her friend while trying to suppress a light laugh. Eowyn seemed to only like those classes where she could see some action, such as flying class or defense against the dark arts and care for magical creatures – all of which made Sigrid a bit nervous, in truth.

"You like every class, Sig." Eowyn mocked her as they stepped into the welcoming warmth of the entrance hall.

"Eowyn, look!" She whispered in a low voice, pulling her friend close by the arm and giving her friend _that_ stare.

"What?" Her friend's brow narrowed in confusion momentarily before her blue eyes followed Sigrid's to land on the long intricate archway where a Gryffindor was currently kissing a Ravenclaw girl behind one of the columns. Sigrid could feel her friend's eyes widen next to her a she let out another low chuckle.

"The twins will murder Aragorn for that." Eowyn whispered as they continued their way down towards the dungeons for the dreaded period of potions with the Slytherins. "Do you think they know that he has been kissing Arwen behind their backs?"

Sigrid shrugged. "I don't think they know yet, but this is not the first time I've seen them. Dan and Ro will probably throw a fit once they find out."

"That's got to be worse than Peeves when angry." Eowyn laughed.

"Hush, here they come!" Her friend hurried to whisper as they took their usual seat at the back of the classroom, the twins very loudly chattering as they took the desk next to them.

Silently, Sigrid pulled her thick potion making book out of her worn out bag, ignoring whatever conversation the twins and Eowyn had established at the moment, only barely noticing that they were apparently laughing about some poor Hufflepuff kid who had forgotten to skip the disappearing step in the stairs.

Instead she let her eyes wonder through the dimly lit dungeon, exploring the many flasks with strange glowing things floating in them and past the many old cauldrons stocked in one of the bottom shelves.

The murmur of chatter in the room grew louder as more of the Gryffindors and Slytherins walked in and took their usual seats, visibly dividing the classroom with the Slytherins at the front and the Gryffindors at the back – where they could be more easily ignored. Out of impulse and curiosity she let her eyes wonder freely through the emerald lined robes, searching for that striking waterfall of silver hair, but he had not arrived yet.

"Silence." Snape's cold voice floated over the dungeon as the heavy door slammed closed behind him. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Elladan- or was it Elrohir?- quickly jumping drown from over the table to resume his seat before he could get yet another detention.

She could feel Snape's coal black eyes travelling the room slowly, cold gaze seeming to be assessing every student, and Sigrid wondered whether he was already picking who would be his victim for the class.

As usual, Snape gave some sort of introductory explanation about the potion they would brew during class before letting them have a go at it, and before she knew it she was already throwing strangely-looking things into her own flaming cauldron.

"Is yours pink too?" Elladan asked to her left, and she turned only to find his silver eyes looking worriedly at the thickly pink and bubbling liquid in his cauldron, his twin laughing loudly at his side.

"What did you put in there?!" She asked, looking instead at her own deep grey potion. It wasn't as the book specified since it said it should be a bright silver color but at least she was closer to the color range.

"Only the things the book said!" Elladan said defensively, and yet a smirk always present in his silver eyes.

"What a disappointment from Gryffindor" Elrohir's voice lowered to a deep languid tone, dragging every word as his face morphed into a perfect imitation of Snape's ever disgusted expression, and she was only glad that said professor was currently too far away from them to notice. "Why, Peredhel, you should take note from Lasgalen's potion, see if you can actually learn something."

The four of them erupted in laughter, covering their mouths as to not be heard, Elladan delivering a playful –yet not so gentle- smack to the back of his twin's head. Her eyes automatically traveled to where he usually at the farthest front corner, only to find that the seat was still empty.

"He is not here." Eowyn added next to her, one of the twins shrugging to her left.

"I bet he can skip as many classes as he wishes and Snape will still pass him with an Outstanding." Elladan rolled his eyes as if disinterested, yet she did not miss the hidden anger floating in his relaxed tone. It was not unknown that the twins especially disliked the Lasgalens ever since their father lost the Ministry to Oropher Lasgalen more than ten years ago, only to step down after only two years for reasons publicly unknown.

"Would he skip class?" She asked, not seeming to believe that anyone would just skip classes at Hogwarts because they felt like it, but then again not every student had the same fear at being caught skipping class as she did.

"He has a reputation for it." Eowyn answered, eyes burning with the unfairness of the situation. "I've heard from many other students that he regularly skips class. Haldir says that he missed about half of their transfiguration classes last year."

"And when your father can donate as much gold as the Lasgalens can to the school, you hardly have to worry about your grades. How he is top of his class, remains a mystery to me." Elladan continued, even though she was sure that Professor Dumbledore would ever accept money to pass a student who did not deserved it.

"Do you think that's why he is in the fourth year's class?" Elrohir mocked, his eyes darting to the empty spot in the corner, where Snape's star student was obviously absent. "Because he failed it twice?"

"Silence!" Snape's voice chilled the air once more, and her eyes immediately looked down as she realized that he was now standing next to their table, coal eyes staring icily at them beneath the curtain of greasy black hair. "And the four of you have gained yourselves detention with me this weekend."

That seemed to do it to silence them for the rest of the class, even though she could see the twins throwing angry glances at Snape's back whenever they got the chance. Sigrid returned her attention into her disgustingly looking potion, even though her mind kept wondering away from it, her eyes every once in a while turning towards the empty seat in the corner, even though she tried to tell herself to not pay attention to it. Why was her mind so much into Lasgalen anyway? None of her friends even seemed to remember talking about him anymore, all of them once again minding their own business. And yet part of her kept hoping that he would still show up for class, even if it was already late, but he never did that day. But then why? And why was she up to finding out why? Would she have cared had it been any other student?

But then again he had known every single answer before, she had seen his parchment filled with intricate notes that seemed more complete than even hers. Would someone skip class whenever they wanted and still take detailed notes and know all the answers whenever they did show up? That did not make much sense.

Snape's dismissal from class broke her trail of though, and she silently put away her books and cauldron before quickly walking out of the dungeon's eerie atmosphere, pretending to be listening to whatever the twins and Eowyn where talking about at the moment. She continued to pretend through dinner as well, not really tasting much of her food as her eyes kept casting glances at the Slytherin table only to find that neither of the Lasgalen brothers where there.

She forced the thoughts out of her mind, and her evening was spent like the rest of them, hidden behind a pile of work while Tilda narrated every single detail of her day to her. But still her curiosity returned when Thranduil Lasgalen did not show up for class the next day, or the day after that, or for the remainder of the week, Snape not even seeming to pay attention to the absence of his favored student.

And so she found herself spending her Friday evening in Snape's gloomy office along with Eowyn and the twins, sorting all sorts of different quirky looking bottles and vials in the shelves specified. After taking a quick glance at the twins, who had been assigned to clean the cauldrons, sorting bottles of potions did not sound so bad really, even though some of them let out a foul smell that was revolting her empty stomach.

Bellow the high window in the plain stone wall, professor Snape sat hunched over his desk, scribbling silently upon some parchments, hostile black eyes every once in a while lifting to look in their direction, quietly observing their every move. None of them had dared to say a word since their arrival at his office, definitely not risking to gain yet another detention.

Pulling a curl of blond hair behind her ear, Sigrid bent down to pick a vial from another box full of flasks lying on the floor when Snape's cold voice interrupted her.

"Bowman." The name dragged coldly through the still air, and she looked up to find those hard, unyielding black eyes staring at her, making her shiver slightly. "Do not put those on the shelves. Take that box to Madam Pomfrey."

He commanded before once again looking down, not even looking at her. She silently nodded her head, bending down once again to pick up her charge, eager to leave the claustrophobic constraints of the room.

The box was heavier than she thought, and she had to balance it with her hip to be able to carry it, the many bottles and flasks clinking against one another like dissonant little bells, echoing through the high arched ceilings and humid stone walls of the dungeon hallways. She was curious as what sorts of potions they carried inside them, some of them portraying bright colors that seemed to glow eerily, but her first priority at the moment was climbing up the many steps and into higher levels of the castle.

Outside the dungeons, the castle was unusually empty, the long imposing hallways seeming even wider in the absence of the crowds, letting her know that the students must all still be in the Great Hall having dinner. Only one or two ghosts crossed her way, but they did not pay any attention to her.

She reached the Hospital Wing quicker than he thought, silently approaching the large wooden doors just as Madam Pomfrey exited through one of them, closing it behind her.

"Good evening, dear" The nurse witch greeted her with her usual motherly smile, eyes noticing the box of potions she currently carried.

"About time those were brought." She murmured to herself, signaling with a hand for Sigrid to follow her through a door adjacent to Hospital Wing's main doors.

Inside, the room was long and narrow, the walls covered with shelves that reached up to the ceiling, all filled with an assortment of boxes, flasks and many other instruments she had never seen before and could not even imagine what they were used for. She followed Madam Pomfrey nearly to end of the room, having to struggle to keep up with the witch's quick strides while managing not to drop the box of potions that had been entrusted to her.

"Put those here." The nurse indicated to one of the shelves with a nod of her head, not even waiting for her to put the box down before continuing. "Look at the labels on the bottles and find where they should go on the shelves, each shelf is labeled so you should have no trouble."

Sigrid nodded her head, but once again the nurse did not wait to check if her instructions had been understood, merely offering a halfhearted smile before quickly exiting the room through the same door they had entered, obviously in some kind of rush.

The heavy oaken door fell closed with a deaf sound, echoing in the many bottles that lined the walls all the way to the high ceiling. Only two torches lit the room, apart from the beam of silver moonlight that filtered through the sparse high windows. Only by throwing a glance at the number of shelves let her know that she would indeed have trouble finding where to place each potion. They all looked alike!

Deciding it best to start right away in order to finish quicker, Sigrid picked up one of the bottles from the box and tried to find where it belonged in the shelves. She twisted the round bottle in her finders for a moment, looking curiously at the green glowing liquid inside it, that seemed to bubble intensely from some seconds before stopping, only to bubble again after a minute or two.

It took her a whole ten minutes to find the proper location of that specific flask, and the box at her feet was still full to the top. It was definitely going to be a long night.

She shook her head in frustration, bending down to pick a second flask when the soft murmur of voices from the other side of the wall caught her attention. She stopped her hand mid-way, momentarily forgetting about the flasks on the floor at the agitated tone the voices carried, but she could not catch a single word, the stone wall too thick for the sound to travel properly through it. Yet the voices were definitely coming from the Hospital Wing next door.

She silently wondered which student had run into Peeves this time and suffered a merciless prank, or if someone had been once again dwelling in the hallways only for a curse to land on them. She shook her head, stretching her hand again to grab the forgotten flask when one of the voices spoke loud enough for her to catch a fragment of the sentence.

"….enough…..transfer to St. Mungos…."

She could not recognize the voice, could barely even hear it, but it was enough for her mind to once again forget about the crystal bottles lying at her feet.

Her eyes darted tentatively behind her, confirming that the door through which Madam Pomfrey had left was indeed still closed. Tentatively she walked to the other end of the room, where a second door joined this storage room with the Hospital Wing. Orange light flickered trough the slit underneath the door, alternating from burnt yellow to black as shadows moved at the other side.

Careful not to a make a sound, she let her hand travel to the silver doorknob, the metal feeling cool against her palm as she turned it painfully slowly, taking advantage that the voices seemed to be too agitated to notice if she took a peek. Surely no one would be watching the door that lead to the storage rooms. At least she hoped not.

The bright light blinded her momentarily, and she blinked a couple of times as she tried to take a look at whatever was happening in the other room. Through the narrow slit she could see figures arguing next to one of the beds, directly across from where she stood behind the barely opened door. She immediately recognized professor McGonagall in her long emerald robe and pointed hat. The other figure was no other that Snape, muttering something to McGonagall too lowly for her to hear. What was Snape doing here? She had just seen him at his office down in the dungeons.

Madam Pomfrey sat at the side of the bed mixing something in a long crystal glass, perfectly blocking her view of whoever was the student that lay inside the blankets.

"Drink this, dear" She heard the nurse add as she handed away the long narrow glass. "Any pain still?" If there was an answer, she did not hear it, the nurse witch still blocking her view of whoever was in the bed.

The tall doors of the Hospital Wing opened and closed once more, all of the figures turning to look as Professor Dumbledore approached, rich blue robes trailing softly behind him. She remained frozen trying not to move and hoping no one would notice if she opened the door just a little bit wider, just enough for her to see properly, even though a voice inside her head kept telling her to shut the door and resume her boring task of staking the flasks. It was what she was supposed to be doing in the first place.

"What is his temperature this time?" The headmaster asked in his ever peaceful voice.

"A hundred and six." Madam Pomfrey was the one to answer, choosing that moment to stand from the bedside and search for something in one of the wooden cabinets.

Her eyes widened as she finally took a look at the student lying on the bed, but still she remained immobile. Long silver hair draped lifelessly on the pillowcases, damp with beads of sweat that she could see upon his furrowed brow. Thranduil Lasgalen looked even paler than usual, his porcelain skin now devoid of color except for the bright fevered flush upon his bony cheeks. His eyes were shut tight as if in obvious pain, and even through the distance she could see him shivering.

"Severus, contact Oropher Lasgalen. We are transferring his son to St. Mungos tonight." The headmaster ordered before turning once more to exit the room at a faster pace this time. "Minerva, come with me."

Her eyes once again traveled to the bed, unsure of what to make of what she was seeing, only to find a par of ice blue eyes suddenly staring directly at hers, piercing her hard and cold even through their fevered glaze, making her freeze once more under the hostile glare, anger flashing through those ice colored irises. He did not break the stare, mercilessly burning through her until she immediately pulled the door closed once more like a chastised child. She had had no right in peeking through that door, and now she had witnessed something that was not meant for her to see…

Here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

Love,

Elena


	5. Wings and Words

The crowd roared around her, arms thrown in the air, elbows hitting against each other as cheers and yells met the loud song of sparks and small explosions from many wands around her.

"Wyne's got the Quaffle! Now Yorish – a perfect catch, that was-; Wyne again! This could be the first score of the match!" The loud voice of Eliseus Dorner echoed over the cheering crowd as three Ravenclaws in their royal blue robes flew suddenly past them at an incredible speed, followed closely by two of the Slytherins in their deep emerald green.

The crowd only yelled louder as the chasers approached the three golden goal hoops at the far end of the field.

"Come on Wyne!" Elladan suddenly yelled to her right, somehow managing to be overheard through the crowd and leaving her half deaf in the process as he clapped his hands enthusiastically.

"Wyne's thrown the Quaffle-" Dorner kept narrating just as Eowyn managed to yell at her lungs full power to her left "The hoops are too far! Don't throw yet!" As if the Ravenclaw chaser could somehow hear her from half way across the field and many meters higher up.

"—And is intersected by Sonnet. It could have been Sofina Wyne to score the first goal for Ravenclaw." Half of the spectating crowd erupted in a cacophony of disappointed murmurs and yells, while the Slytherin crowd, with their emerald scarves and giant banners, cheered all the more loudly.

Sigrid kept her eyes glued to the flying figures, which moved too fast for her to fully see what was happening. And yet, it was impossible for her not to recognize the lean girl who flew at the head of the chase, the red Quaffle safely in hand, silky dark hair tied in a perfectly neat long ponytail. One of the Ravenclaw beaters threw a bludger at Sonnet, but the fifth-year girl easily evaded it with a lighting speed turn of her broomstick before suddenly throwing the Quaffle deftly into the air.

"Alexis Sonnet scores first goal for Slytherin!" Dorner's voice was nearly drowned as the Slytherin crowd suddenly erupted in cheers. Both Elladan and Elrohir cursing loudly beside her. "Its 10-0, Slytherin at the head of the game!"

"I want to see one game where she doesn't score first." Elrohir muttered angrily at her, his long dark hair swaying softly behind his back as he shook his head in disappointment, his twin brother matching him in expression.

"And Wyne's got the Quaffle again! It's Ravenclaw's opportunity to score! Come on Wyne!" Dorner's voice continued to rear over the crowd, his tone making it perfectly clear which house he was rooting for, even if he was supposed to narrate impartially. But then again who could blame him, nobody –except the Slytherins- wanted Slytherin to win the Quidditch cup…again.

The Ravenclaw chaser dashed at full speed towards the opposite goal hoops, barely dodging the bludgers on her way. Another Ravenclaw chaser was not so lucky though, and the crowd gasped loudly as the heavy wild ball crashed against the broom, pieces of wood flying through the air as the boy collided against one of the spectating towers and tumbled towards the ground.

"This doesn't look good for Ravenclaw, with Yorish on the floor. Let's hope he can get back in the game soon. Wyne still has possession of the Quaffle, if she can get past Bouchard it will mean a goal for Ravenclaw!"

But Bouchard would not be the problem, Sigrid soon saw. She had not forgotten the clumsy boy she had seen at the Slytherin trials, and she knew that he would not be able to cover many goals even if he tried his best, yet it was one again the Slytherin chasers who intersected the goal, making poor Bernie Bouchard's job easier for him.

Sigrid let her eyes wonder higher up in the clear sky, staring at the two seekers slowly circling above the rest of the players. Even through the distance, Thranduil Lasgalen's long silver hair was impossible to miss, the pallor contrasting sharply against the deep emerald robe. The Ravenclaw seeker seemed to be following Lasganel's flying pattern, as if focusing on him instead of searching for the snitch, and she guessed Ravenclaw's tactic would be to dash for the snitch as soon as Lasgalen did. But neither of the seekers had moved all game, barely circling slowly the field or at times staying completely still in the air, with no sight yet of the golden winged ball.

This was the first time she saw Lasgalen after the spying she had done in the Hospital Wing a whole week ago. He had not gone to class either that whole following week, and she had not seen him in the Great Halls at meals, nor at the hallways nor the yard by the lake. Curiosity still gnawed at her mind, and the image of him lying feverish and pale on the hospital bed that night was hard to forget, especially when he looked like royalty at the moment, circling the field as if it belonged to him.

A cheer form the Slytherin's made her eyes return to the game. Alexis Sonnet had the Quaffle again, then passed it to Downy, then Alexis again, then Kim and much sooner than she had expected the Slytherin crowd was again roaring at their second goal, while the rest of the crowd seemed to be losing their hope of winning the game. Her stomach twisted wildly as Sonnet flew past where she stood, making her once again dislike the girl only because of the perfect gracefulness with which she flew, her porcelain skin looking as flawless as ever, every move perfectly calculated, perfectly executed.

Soon after the second the goal, the game became a clear massacre. Alexis Sonnet scored a third and fourth goal, while Downy scored the fifth. The Slytherin beaters seemed to be on top of the Ravenclaw chaser's every turn they took, aiming the wild bludgers at them with all of their strength, not seeming to care where they hit- and not seeming to be following the rules either.

Suddenly, the crowd erupted in cheers and roars around her, student's springing to their feet once more, jumping or ducking to get a better view. She found herself squished in between the twins, both of them yelling too loudly and too fast of her to catch a word of what they were saying.

"Lasgalen dashes towards the ground! I think he sees the snitch! Elarion is closely behind, he might catch up still!" Dorner nearly screamed into the enchanted megaphone, and true to his words she suddenly saw two figures darting vertically at full speed, the game seemed to have stopped beneath them just to watch. It was a competition of speed, Lasgalen visibly having the advantage but the Ravenclaw seeker remained at his heels. They darted straight towards the ground, the students in the sitting rows only roaring louder as they quickly approached the land, neither of them seeming to stop or slow down a bit, instead, they seemed to be gaining speed.

"They are going to crash." Eowyn gasped to her left, but she did not turn to see her friend, her eyes focused on the green and blue figures that indeed seemed to headed head first against the sandy ground. It seemed that Elarion had won some speed in the fall, the two seekers now shoulder to shoulder, her heart racing with the adrenaline of the game.

But neither of the seekers crashed, both turning abruptly at the very last second, Lasgalen managing the move with far more ease than Elarion, the Ravenclaw seeker losing his balance for a second and the tip of his foot dragged over the ground before he regained control of his broomstick. Yet at that point Lasgalen had enough advantage on him, having managed the turn with exact precision, and somehow now seeming to be flying even faster than before, as if he had somehow been purposely letting the Ravenclaw seeker to catch up with him earlier. And then pale slender fingers were wrapping around the golden snitch, the unhappy Ravenclaw crowd drowned by the Slytherin cheers, the rest of the team already flying towards the ground, some of them with their arms in the air in victory.

"And Lasgalen has caught the Snitch, awarding one hundred and fifty points for Slytherin and ending the match. Slytherrin wins!" Dorner declared over the crowd, managing to sound only half impartial, even though Sigrid was sure he would only go sulk and complain like the rest of the Ravenclaws as soon as he let go of the enchanted megaphone.

She could hear Elladan and Elrohir complaining beside her already, but she was no longer paying attention to them, her eyes following the figure that seemed to call all of her curiosity as of late, the golden snitch still securely caged in his fingers as he rose his arm in the air. A wide grin lighted those glacial blue eyes, already dismounted from his broomstick while the rest of the Slytherin team crowded around him, jumping and cheering and clapping. She barely even registered that the crowd around her had begun to disperse, and she found herself absent-mindedly following too, climbing her way down from the seats with the mass of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Tilda and Bain must have been close somewhere, but she had not seen either of her siblings for the duration of the game.

The green monster appeared inside of her once more as she saw Alexis Sonnet already perched to him, the feeling one she utterly disliked but could not force away, twisting her stomach and burning in her veins. The girl's pale thin arms were wrapped around Lasgalen's middle, and he too seemed to be hugging her, his strong free arm wrapped tightly around her tiny waist. Some of the Slytherin students had already ran towards their team, gathering around them while their wands threw green and silver sparks to the air.

"I want to hold it! I want to hold it!" She caught the soft excited voice among the cheering Slytherins down in the Quidditch field, still carrying a slightly boyish tone, and she turned to find a young light-blond boy wriggling through the mass of students, the Slytheirns letting him pass easily.

"Thran, I want to hold it!" The younger Lasgalen asked again, a wide smile adorning his still boyish features, so similar to his older brother's. Legolas reached only slightly below his brother's shoulder, with him being only eleven, but there was look of admiration in his big blue eyes that made her smile through the distance.

She saw Thranduil handing his little replica the golden ball, silver wings fluttering quickly as if trying to get away, but held securely now in the smaller hand. Legolas' grin only grew wider as some of the Slytherins cheered at him and clapped again as if he had been the one to catch it, his still short arm flying high in the air with the snitch, Thranduil shoving his brother playfully in the shoulder only to receive a hit in return.

"Sig! Are you coming?" Eowyn's call made her eyes travel to where her friend stood, one hand waving impatiently in the air, and only now did she realize that she had started to lag behind. Eowyn's log blond waves were draped messily over her shoulders, the wind having obviously twisted every curl out of place, but her friend did not seem to care less.

"Ravenclaw will need to beat Hufflepuff by at least two hundred points to recover from this game." Her friend chuckled as they descended the many steps and onto the ample green yard, the castle towering still some meters ahead. The mass of students walked all around them in the same direction, and, just like her friend, everyone seemed to be commenting on the game, the Ravenclaws being the only ones silent, eyes cast down and looking positively angry.

A sudden cheer from the Ravenclaw students made her turn her head, only to find that their Quidditch team had already joined them in their defeated march towards the castle, already out of their sapphire robes and into their black school uniforms.

"I would date her." Elrohir muttered, and Sigrid followed his silver eyes to look at the Ravenclaw chaser who was narrating something very fast to a friend some meters to their right. She was tiny in size, but her facial features were perfectly angled and refined, making her baby blue eyes seem larger, golden-brown hair falling messily from her ponytail.

"You would marry her" Elladan laughed at his twin, earning a murderous glare that seemed to encourage Elladan into singing very exaggeratedly "Sofinaa, I loooove youuuu."

"Shut up!" Elhorir gritted his teeth, smacking his brother behind his head, Elladan still laughing as he rubbed the spot.

"Who wants to go see if we can get the giant squid to show up!" Elladan suggested already pushing his brother towards the lake shore, where a bunch of students were already sitting in groups or throwing rocks and bread and even pumpkin pie into the water to see if they could manage a glimpse at least of one giant tentacle.

"I have to send my dad a letter, but I will meet you there shortly." She explained, Eowyn waving at her shortly before turning to follow the twins.

"Use our owl!" Elladan yelled mockingly as he grabbed Eowyn by the arm and pulling her into a near run before they disappeared through the crowd.

"You don't have an owl!" Sigrid let out a small chuckle, shaking her head as she hurried up the steps and into the castle, not wasting time while she wriggled her way out of the mass of students and into the long arched hallways.

The long spiral staircase that led to the tower where school owls were kept seemed to go on forever, and she was already tired from running up once she reached the top, absently pushing the lpain wooden door open and stepping into the straw covered floor.

Hundreds of owls filled the ample round room, some flying in and out the windows while others merely stood over the wooden beams holding up the pointed ceiling, their round yellow eyes staring at her. She placed a hand into her robe's pocket, confirming that her letter was indeed there, only a little wrinkled, but that wasn't a problem.

It took her a minute to decide which owl to use. Being as clumsy as she was, she was sure any owl would struggle in her hands, but she decided that the grey feathered owl resting over the window ledge looked peaceful enough. And she was wrong. No sooner had she placed her hands carefully over the owls folded wings to hold her steady when said owl tried to open her wings, forcefully beating at her hand as the head turned and quickly captured one of her finger's in its pointed beak.

"Ow!" She gasped, pulling her hands away quickly, the owl flying away from her the second she was free, and she let out a silent curse as she inspected her finger where a small – but painful – cut was left.

"Don't hold it by the wings." The voice startled her, and she turned to find piercing ice blue eyes staring at her from the newly opened door, the emerald robes from the game now replaced by the black school robes, lined in the deep Slytherin green. The green and silver scarf was wrapped loosely yet elegantly around his neck.

"Should you not be celebrating?" She asked before she could stop herself, standing up straight once more, his cold regal demeanor slightly annoying her, and yet his impenetrable blue stare seemed to be looking right through her. The wide smile that she had seen reaching his eyes only some minutes ago by the Quidditch field was gone from his face, once again a perfectly crafted marble statue, beautiful yet cold.

"Should you not be by the lake with the other Gryffindors?" Lasgalen asked in return, answering her question with a question, and silently implying that what he should or should not be doing was not for her to question.

Instead, he walked right past her and towards one of the lower cages, extending his strong arm and allowing the owl to fly for a little before perching on his forearm, talons gripping at the robe's dark fabric.

"Here." He said as he walked in her direction, his tone flat, neither cold nor friendly. Silently, and feeling the weight of his icy blue eyes on her- which pierced like a sharp January day- she hurried to tie the letter to the owls' extended talon before it took flight, quickly disappearing out the window and into the low white clouds.

She had nothing else to do in the tower after that, but she did not leave, standing there for a second as she watched him tie an envelope of his own onto another owl of his choice before letting it out the window too.

"You don't have an owl?" She asked, her voice sounder colder than she expect it, and she silently smacked herself for asking such a stupid question.

His perfect eyebrows rose high on his forehead as those impenetrable cold eyes turned to scrutinize her once more.

"It looks like you don't have one either." He finally said, voice cold again, and a harsh silence settled in the room for a second as she debated whether to just leave now.

"I have a cat." He broke the silence, his tone not exactly friendly but less cold that before, merely disinterested. Was he trying to make conversation with her? Why had he not left yet, if he had already mailed his letter? But then again she hadn't left either.

She nodded her head, turning her eyes to look outside the window as both of them stood there in the awkward silence, the slight breeze making his long silver hair dance slightly at his back. She could see his slender fingers drumming lightly over the wooden window ledge, and she could not help but notice his left hand trembling slightly, while his right one seemed completely steady. He seemed to catch her staring, for he suddenly hid both of his hands inside his robe's pockets.

"I need your help." He suddenly spoke, making her eyes fly up once again to meet his, focusing on holding his penetrating yet enchanting gaze. That took her by surprise, and for a second she forgot that he was waiting for some kind of answer from her part.

"What for?" She asked, her voice cautious, distrustful. She wasn't even sure he knew who she was, let alone want her help?

"I need your class notes. Your potions class notes." He said after a moment, his piercing eyes never once leaving hers, holding her perfectly in place. Yet something in his tone had changed, making it sound softer somehow, as if admitting to something that he did not want to admit yet had on other option but to do so. The request surprised her once more, yet it somehow angered her and fed her curiosity.

"Why do you want my notes? Do you even know my name?" She pushed him, knowing perfectly well that he had been absent from class for two whole weeks, yet feeling slightly insulted that he would expect she would just give him her work for free for him to earn a better grade than her.

"Do you take me for an egocentric or an ignorant?" Once again he answered her question with a question, but she understood that he must have known who she was, and once again a harsh silence settled in the room, interrupted only by the sporadic fluttering of wings high above them.

"Will you lend me your notes, or not?" He pressed after a long silence, and she felt completely trapped under that iced stare, her own eyes staring coldly back at him.

"Is it because you missed two weeks of class?" She pressed back, asking the obvious question. "I saw you at the Hospital Wing. Are you all right?" She added, wanting to get information on the question that had gnawed at her mind for a while now.

His expression hardened. "I don't know what you're talking about." He denied her. Oh, he knew. He had caught her looking at him from behind that door, had nearly murdered her with his eyes. And yet his suddenly hostile demeanor let her know that she had touched a sore spot. Yet she did not add that she overheard Professor Dumbledore indicating to transfer him to St. Mungos. Had he been there all week? Why was he trying to hide it so badly?

"You do." She added, ager rising inside of her at his dismissive tone. "You know I saw you that night."

"You saw nothing that night. I don't know what you're saying." He spoke harshly, his eyes burning through hers as she stood as tall as she could, still a whole head shorter than him.

"You skipped class for two weeks. Was it because of that?"

"What I do is none of your business." He answered back at her, his tone dripping ice. "I need to pass the class, and for that I still need your notes, can I have them or not?" He seemed to be losing his patience.

"Why mine? Why not ask for your Slytherin friends' notes?" Why was she being so hard on him?

"Would you trust _their_ notes?" He asked in return, raising his eyebrows at her and suddenly once more looking regal, powerful.

"No" She muttered. "But why not someone else notes? Why mine?" She pressed again.

"Because…" He started, but then stopped talking and instead, pursing his lips.

"Because I saw you in the Hospital Wing, is it not? Therefore _I_ would believe that you skipped class because you _had_ _to_ and not because you think it's fun to skip class, and it would make me more willing to share my work with you." She guessed, and by the way in which his icy eyes turned to focus on the window without an answer she knew she had guessed right. He hardly knew her, they had never really spoken before, there had to have been a reason for him to ask her specifically.

"Yes." He muttered, his voice barely audible while his eyes did not turn to look at her. And yet, even after he had admitted what he had seemed so intent in denying before, she did not feel any better, she did not feel victorious at all. In fact, she felt horrible, if he had been ill for whatever reason or trouble or fight, she had no business in forcing it out of him.

"Fine." She sighed after a while, his impenetrable ice blue eyes turning once again to look at her. He had helped her in Hogsmeade after she had lost her money, and she had not even asked it of him, and just right now he had helped again with the owl, she could at least help him with sharing her notes. Especially when they had a potions paper due in two days that she was now positive he had not even started.

"You can have my notes." She continued, watching him nod his head slightly. "Meet me at the library tomorrow after class and you can copy them all, we can even go over the paper." She decided she would not let him take her notes with him - after all some Slytherins were known for borrowing notes from peers and then sharing them among all of them, ensuring them all an undeserved Outstanding in class. She would not have her notes shared among all the Slytherins in her potions class.

"Thank you." He said in a gentle, yet still cold tone, turning then and heading towards the door.

"And thank you for the sugar quill. I owe one of those." She added at last, making him turn to look at her once more as he opened the door his lips curving up in a barely visible half-smirk.

"After trying the one you recommended, I would say you owe me two, Sigrid Bowman." He said, turning around and silently closing the door behind him, leaving her alone in the company of the school's owls, making her feel more ashamed and stupid than before. Perhaps she was the egocentric and ignorant after all.

Here I leave the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it!

Thanks to Amsim for your wonderful comments :) Mystery is building and there are some things that our girl here still needs to find out! But I won't spoil it!

Love,

Elena


	6. Judging You, Judging Me

The morning light filtered through the tall pointed windows in cascades of glimmering gold, bathing the Great Hall and bouncing from the four long polished tables, where students were already gathered enjoying their breakfast. Carved pumpkins with twisted faces and grinning teeth covered the spacious room, the joyful chatter anticipating the Halloween feast that night.

Beside her, Eowyn bit half-heartedly at her toast, looking only half-awake, the couple of letters that an owl had dropped beside her cup of pumpkin juice still unopened. Deciding that her friend would not be awake enough to talk yet, Sigrid took a fresh toast from the tray in front of her only to nearly drop it in surprise as a thick book landed heavily to her right, missing her own cup of pumpkin juice by mere inches.

"I don't like Flitwick" Her little sister's voice complained as she took the seat next to her, the red and gold Gryffindor scarf nearly swallowing her small throat. Her arms folded over the table, pushing the plate away from her and pouting.

"Good morning to you too, Tilda." Sigrid muttered in return, holding back a chuckle as she finally bit into her buttered toast, crumbles dropping messily over her plate. "Isn't it a little early in the day to be already hating on professors? Classes have not even started."

That earned her a deathly glare form her sister's large blue eyes, yet she did not manage to look menacing at all, her childish rosy cheeks making her angry face look too cute. "I still don't like Flitwick. And I hate charms. I have double charms first thing today. Double!"

Sigrid laughed lightly at her sister, deciding it better to remain silent and let Tilda sulk and complain all she wanted to. Instead, she reached underneath Eowyn's forgotten letters on the table, where today's copy of the Daily Prophet remained still perfectly folded.

"Do you mind if I read it?" She asked, a disinterested wave from Eowyn's hands being the only reply she got, but she understood it as a yes.

She let her eyes wonder through the pages, stopping every now and then to read a specific title but finding nothing worth of her attention. There was a big advertising of a shop that had just opened in Diagon Alley; more news on the debate going around about the country's exports in cauldrons; Phius Sonnet had declared a new law regarding the ownership of venomous magical creatures; and the ministry seemed to be having trouble with apparently five muggle sightings of magic performed by underage wizards who now needed to go to trial. But apart from that, there seemed to be nothing interesting or relevant in today's paper.

"Hey, that's Legolas' father!" Tilda exclaimed suddenly next to her, pointing at a page in the paper that Sigrid had left forgotten on the table.

She let her eyes follow to where her sister was pointing and it wasn't a big article but sure enough there was a picture of a regal looking wizard dressed in expensive looking robes with equally silver hair falling long and straight down his back. His face was serious, blue eyes looking stern, imposing, powerful, and she suddenly had the feeling that he must looks scarier in real life. Below the picture and in one corner of the page read the title:

 **"** **Oropher Lasgalen presents generous donation to the St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries** **"**

 _Ex- Prime Minister of Magic Oropher Lasgalen presented a large donation yesterday, October 30th, to the St. Mungo's Hospital. The donation, an amount which has not yet been released to the press, is to be dedicated to experimental sorcery and potion making advances for yet untreatable maladies and injuries. According to records this will be the third donation the Ex-Minister of Magic presents to the hospital, for which the staff is infinitely grateful and eager to…._

She stopped reading after that. The article was really short and it did not say more about the subject than what the title said. And still, there was something about the article that sounded slightly strange to her. It was common for influential and wealthy old families to donate large amounts of galleons to public institutions every once in a while, especially when their names were related to the Ministry. But it was definitely unusual for donations to be made repeatedly to the same institution, and she wondered for a second what business did the Lasgalens have with the Hospital.

"Are you still friends with Legolas?" She gently asked Tilda, closing the paper carefully once more before placing it over Eowyn's unread letters. Her sister's eyes turned up to look at her, placing a lock of her fine hair beside her ear before answering.

"Yeah." She shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He's really nice. I wish he had been in Gryffindor but he told me he asked the hat to be placed in Slytherin. I didn't know you could do that. Anyway we have three classes together."

"Why would he ask the hat to be in Slytherin?" Sigrid added, seeming to find the situation stranger than her little sister, for once again Tilda shrugged, as if the subject was of little interest to her.

"He said he wanted to be with his brother." Tilda said, picking her book in her hands and reluctantly throwing her backpack over one of her shoulders. "I should got to class now, before all the back row seats are taken."

Sigrid laughed again at her sister's dramatic tone, shaking her head lightly as she watched the young girl dragging her feet across the Great Hall and disappearing through the imposing open doors. And speaking of class, it was probably also time for her and the half-asleep Eowyn to head to _their_ class as well unless they wanted to receive detention with McGonagall.

"Come on." She nudged her friend, already lifting her own bag over her shoulder. It was heavier than usual, and she made a mental note to empty some books from it next time she was in the Gryffindor tower.

"Where are Dan and Ro?" Eowyn's soft blue-grey eyes scanned the table, but Sigrid merely shrugged in return. She had not seen the twins that morning, and if she had to be honest she would rather not know what they were up to.

They made it barely in time to transfigurations, saving themselves detention but gaining the two front seats- the only two available- and right under McGonagall's ever watching eyes. At least this week they would no longer be attempting to turn a hat into a singing bird like the past few weeks – for which Sigrid had only managed to get the hat to spit feathers- and were now instead turning rocks into snails.

"This is impossible." Eowyn muttered to her left between gritted teeth, once more pointing her twelve-inch wand and tapping the rock twice, only for it to bounce slightly before once again remaining an unmoving, dull rock.

"Hey, I did it!" She suddenly squealed in return, earning a murderous glance form Eowyn. Suprisingly her little rock had indeed turned into a snail….but a mere second after it returned to being a rock, making her sigh in frustration and Eowyn to laugh loudly. "I thought I had it…."

"I can't wait for today to be over." Eowyn added just as her rock bounced once more before remaining still again. "Why does mine only bounce? What am I doing wrong?"

"You're doing everything wrong. Ow! Don't poke me with your wand!" She rubbed at her upper arm, where Eowyn's wand had playfully smacked her.

"You are not doing very well either with your rock." Her fried added defensively, still her grey-blue eyes sparked with a hint of mockery that mirrored her one sided smile. "I just want to be at the Halloween feast. Let's go early this year, right after class, so we can get the best candies and pastries."

"I can't go early today." She whispered, trying not to look at Eowyn's now positively exasperated eyes.

"If it is because you have to go to the library for homework I will-"

"It is because I have to be at the library." She interrupted her friend mid-sentence, speaking faster for Eowyn to just listen before talking again. "I'm sharing my notes with Lasgalen." She blurted out.

"You're what?" Eowyn's eyes widened, her rock and wand now forgotten on the table, and Sigrid had to check out of the corner of her eyes that McGonagall was indeed far enough not to catch them talking instead of working. "Why could you do that? When have the two of you ever spoken? Does he think he can just skip class and get your notes? I've heard he tends to do that, to get students to give him their work while he skips class as he pleases. He's already Snape's star student."

Her friend was rambling now, and Sigrid just glanced around to make sure that no one could overhear their conversation before whispering more quietly this time.

"I don't know." She added. "Perhaps he does need the help and is not just skipping class and getting someone else to do his work for him?"

"What would make you think that?" Eowyn folded her arms over the table, her eyes looking deeply at her as if trying but failing to understand her trail of thought. She opened her mouth, for a second ready to tell her closest friend that she had seen Lasgalen in the Hospital Wing the night Snape gave them detention and he had later –albeit reluctantly- admitted to it, but closed her mouth instead. Lasgalen had been so intent in denying that he had ever been in the Hospital Wing that she decided this was not her information to share, even though she never understood why. She did not owe Lasgalen any sort of loyalty? Shouldn't she share whatever she wanted with her best friend?

"I don't know. He just seemed very honest about needing the help." She said instead, picking up her wand and feigning that she was once again focused on turning her rock into a snail, but her mind could not be farther from it.

"Ok." Was all Eowyn said, and she was glad that her friend knew her well enough to know when to stop questioning her. "I'll save you candy."

The rest of the day went uneventful, expect for Elladan managing to get kicked out of the day's divination class for laughing at one of Trelawney's dramatic prophecies, and Elrohir for losing ten points from Gryffindor for then laughing at his brother. Eowyn did not bring the subject of her notes again, a thing she was glad for, and instead had switched the topic to all of her expectations for the Halloween feast that night, even adding that it would be interesting to see a troll- a thing that most terrified Sigrid. Luckily, they did not have potions that day, and she was happy not to see Snape's glaring coal eyes, or get any more points subtracted from Gryffindor for whatever reason they could find.

And sooner than she would have liked she found herself making her way to the library as the sky turned pink then purple in the distance, after agreeing with Eowyn and the twins that she would meet them at the feast later that night. She clutched at her books hard against her chest, the rest of them safely stuck inside her backpack, trying to ignore her stomach, which was twisting away in nerves.

Sure enough, the spacious library was empty, all of the students no doubt making their way to the Great Hall to celebrate. Thin columns stretched up to the high ceiling in the form of pointed arches, the large chandeliers bathing the room with a warm and flickering orange light, and the smell of parchment and books filled her nostrils with their welcoming and familiar aura. She scanned the room briefly, confirming that no one but Madam Pince was present, the librarian's nose hidden away inside a large tome, and only the tip of the black pointed hat was visible.

Sighing, she walked to the ample table closest to the crackling fireplace and proceeded to lay out her books neatly over the polished wooden surface. It was nice for once to be able to choose a table, since the library was usually packed with students after class. She did not have to wait for long, for it seemed that she had barely sat down when the door of the library opened once more, those impenetrable cold eyes finding her quickly, and she partially stiffened as he approached her.

Thranduil Lasgalen seemed to look taller than before –was that even possible?- somehow looking more regal and elegant underneath the flickering light. And yet his face remained as expressionless as ever, a stone mask impossible to break, impossible to read through. He reached her side in no time, but did not sit down at the table. Instead, his velvet lined voice echoed through the silent hall.

"Let's sit over there." He said, his voice not leaving space for argument, not even waiting for an answer before walking away to a table of his choice, farthest from where she sat and underneath a tall crystal window.

She took a deep calming breath, forcing herself to bite her tongue and simply gather all her perfectly arrange books from the table and moving to where he sat, trying to convince herself that arguing over a table would not be worth her time. But why did things have to be _his_ way?

"What was wrong with my table?" She muttered as she dropped her books loudly over the table, not caring about arranging them anymore and earning a reproachful look form Madam Pince at the noise she caused.

"I like this one better." He said matter of factly, ever so gracefully pulling out a couple of blank parchments and taking his time to place them perfectly silently over the table before using an elegant movement of a hand to beckon her to seat, as if he was a host inviting her to his banquet.

"We had more light there." She murmured as she sat right in front of him, throwing her notebook open carelessly.

"We have the window here." He answered, his voice as cold and distant as always, even though she noticed there was not a single candle on that table.

"It's dark outside the window. We had the whole fireplace where I sat." She pointed out in a slightly annoyed voice, flipping through the pages of her notebook in order to find the specific section of notes that he needed.

" _Lumos"_ She heard him whisper, followed by the tip of his fourteen-inch wand suddenly brightening up in a dash of white light, his slender fingers patiently placing the wand over the table and in between the two of them.

"Is that enough light for you?" One thick eyebrow raised questioningly, his face still devoid of any expression, and she just bit her tongue again and forced herself to let go of this ridiculous argument.

"Fine." She half-said half-snapped, turning her notebook around for him to see, indicating with a finger where her notes started. "From here on is what you missed. I'll be writing my paper while you copy."

She watched him nod his head, not saying anything in return, the weight of that piercing blue stare making her suddenly very self-conscious, the bright white light emanating from his wand making his pale hair look almost white as it fell freely over his perfectly muscled shoulders. And then, as silently and regal as before he merely glanced down, taking his long quill in his pale fingers and starting to copy in a neat –too neat- slanted calligraphy over his own piece of parchment. She threw careful glances at him as he worked, making sure that he did not just grab her notebook and place it in his bag or stole anything from it that was not what she had offered to share.

"What do you need so many books for?" His cold velvet voice made her look up from her own parchment where she had currently been attempting to continue her paper, only to find those impacting blue eyes once again freezing her in place.

"To finish my paper." She replied with a cutting tone, barely glancing at all the books that laid open in front of her. In return, she could see both of his eyebrows rising on his flawless forehead, looking slightly amused – if anything he did could be called an expression, really. Was he mocking her?

"You don't need that many." He commented, his voice slow and detached, somehow haughty, royal, and she bit her tongue again at his comment. Why was he being so bossy? "What's the paper about?"

"Essential potion making ingredients of the Mediterranean shores." She recited, trying to keep her calm and be slightly nice. Could he not just copy her notes and be silent? She was starting to understand why the twins disliked him so much. Beyond that unnatural beauty he seemed to be as arrogant as she had heard.

She watched those cold penetrating eyes wonder over her many books for a second before his pale slender fingers suddenly picked one, turning a couple of pages and pushing it in front of her to see.

"There's your paper." He said disinterested, once again looking at his own parchment and continuing with his perfect scribbling.

She glanced down at the indicated page, and indeed there was all of the information she needed to write a paper deserving an Outstanding on the subject. It took her a couple of breaths not to snap at him. Ever since arriving at the library he seemed to be telling her where to sit and what to write. But then again, how had he known the information would be there?

But she did not ask him. She simply went over the page that apparently she had not been able to find before and continued writing in silence. She could feel his eyes on her work every once in a while, as if proof reading everything that she was writing and she tried her best to ignore it.

"You've used the word 'beneficial' three times in that single sentence, don't you think it's time to change it?" That was it, she was going to lose it and snap at him.

"Let me write the paper my way." She answered between clenched teeth, noticing him raise both of his hands defensively in the air before continuing with his silent scribbling. Outside, the sky had already turned pitch black, thousands of stars now glimmering over the cloudless mantle, the pale crescent moon reflected neatly over the lake's mirror black surface.

"There should be a coma there." He broke the silence, pointing to the sentence she had just written, and even though he was right about it she had already lost her patience with him. He was so obnoxious.

"Would you stop correcting me?" She snapped at him, setting her quill harshly over the table, not caring about the ink splotch that she had just created. And yet, to her utter surprise his ever-serious face morphed into a slight smirk, letting out the quietest of chuckles.

"You get angry too easily." There was an unmistakable mocking tone in his ever-cold voice that made her doubt if he had just been provoking her on purpose. Was he having fun at her expense?

"I would not get angry if you would stop judging my writing." She said in return, nearly ready to pack her stuff and leave him there, no longer in the mood to be helping. But instead watched him raise his eyebrows once more before turning to look out of the window, that mocking, haughty smirk never leaving his marble face.

" _You_ are the one who hasn't stopped judging _me_." His words surprised her and she felt somewhat offended by them. Was she not here willingly letting him copy all of her notes in order to help him? And on top of everything he accused her of judging him when he had been correcting everything she did since his arrival?

"Excuse me?" Was all she was able to say, sure that she was finally going to lose what little patience she had left. But contrary to her, Lasgalen remained as tranquil and regal as before, not looking altered or provoked in the slightest.

"Oh, please." He nearly whispered, cold eyes departing from the window to look straight through hers once more, his tone still calmed, disinterested, as if he was merely talking about the weather. "I've heard it all before. Let's see what are you so wary and distrustful about. Is it because I will share your notes with every single Slytheirn in the class, like I've heard said every Slytherin does? Or is it because I'm so arrogant that I manage to get students to lend me their notes at my will while I believe I'm above attending regular classes like the rest of the students? Or maybe is it because why bothering to let me copy notes that you worked so hard on when I've also heard that my father pays Dumbledore every semester to pass me. Or is it that Snape gives me an Outstanding in his class no matter what? I don't know which would it be this time."

"It's…none of that." She lied, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than before, his words dancing in her head like some sort of revelation, wishing that perhaps she had stopped to decide for herself whether to give him the cold shoulder or not based on her own judgment instead of biasing on what she had so often heard. But then again, if he knew all of that stuff, why did he not contradict them?

"Sure." He shrugged, obviously not believing her but seeming to care about it either, a cold disturbing silence suddenly floating in the air as she toyed awkwardly with her quill, Lasgalen not moving a muscle, once again looking outside the window.

"If you know people say all of those thing why don't you say something about it?" She ventured, her voice having lost part of its hostility and sounding gentler now, tentative. That seemed to get his attention, for his disinterested eyes turned once again in her direction, looking as if her suggestion had amused him.

"Like what?"

"I don't know." She continued, trying to think of something. "Like why are you taking a fourth-year class when you are in your sixth-year? Or why do you skip class so much?"

"Stop meddling in what's not your business." He said in a cutting tone, and this time it was her raising both of her hands defensively. Why was he so difficult to talk to?

"It was only a suggestion." She muttered.

"Well don't suggest that again." He replied, his voice dripping ice as that painful silence settled once more over the room. And yet she tried to think of something else to say, suddenly thinking that perhaps there was more to him than what could be heard in the hallways and classroom. He was still a mystery to her, and a mystery that seemed intent in retaining that ice cold wall around himself.

"How's your cat?" She asked before she could stop and think before, silently cursing herself in the process? Really? Had she just asked that? Oh, she could see how stupid her question must have sounded in the way in which his eyes were now studying her as if assessing her sanity. That was a strange question to ask out of nowhere.

"Now you are the one judging me." She rushed to add, watching as he let out another amused chuckle.

"I'm trying very hard not to." He commented, studying her for a while longer before answering in a slow voice, as if still questioning where that question had come from. "He's fine I guess, down in the Slytherin dungeon."

"Isn't it depressing and gloomy down there?" She heard herself say once more before stopping to think, this time met once again by a pair a raised eyebrows and penetrating blue eyes.

"Isn't it always hectic and nerve-wracking in the ever-busy Gryffindor tower?" And there it was, answering a question with a question. Oh, how that frustrated her. And still, that question made her laugh lightly, finding it entertaining how an outsider would perceive the warm and welcoming tower she loved so dearly.

"No." She was quick to answer. "It's warm and there's tons of light and an amazing view of the yard."

"I have a view underneath the lake." He added, his face as serious as usual, yet his voice sounded somehow less cold, only if slightly, although still maintaining that regal and powerful demeanor.

"Doesn't that scare you?" She continued questioning, not finding the image of swirling water at her window pleasing at all. "To think that you have tons of water just floating heavily over your roof while you sleep?"

"No." He seemed to have found her comment equally interesting for that mocking smirk was once again present in his pale face. "That's exactly what I like about it. It makes you feel safe."

"Safe from what?" She blurted out, but he merely shrugged silently in return, not answering her question.

"I finished copying your notes." His icy voice answered instead, changing the direction of the conversation and seeming to be eager to mark an end to it. "Would you mind going over the paper tomorrow? It's already late."

Sigrid nodded her head, carefully closing all of her books while noticing him putting away his parchments, quill and into his own bag.

" _Nox_ " She heard him say, followed by the disappearance of the bright light that that previously bathed their table, the room once again in the comforting orange tinge of the candles and fireplace. She threw her bag over her shoulder, waiting patiently for him to do the same, and was surprised when he suddenly winced quietly as he pulled the heavy bag with his left hand, letting it drop to the floor before switching hands and pulling it up with his right.

"Are you ok?" She asked, feeling the weight of his impenetrable ice blue eyes on her as they started their way towards the tall pair of doors.

"Yeah." He answered quickly, not turning to look at her as he let her through the door first. "I just twisted my wrist at the game." He explained.

She nodded her head, not sure if to believe him or not. Shouldn't Madam Pomfrey be able to treat a sprained wrist in only a minute? But then again, she did not ask more about it, instead watching as he silently turned around and disappeared through the long empty corridor. And then, already dreading and anticipating the meeting with him again tomorrow, she made her way through the long deserted hallways of the castle, hoping that her friends had saved her some treats from the Halloween feast.

Here's the next chapter! I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

Thank you so much to VayaNoldo22 and Rose61393 fro reviewing, your comments mean a lot to me, so happy you are enjoying the story thus far!

Love,

Elena


	7. On A Rainy Night

"He's going in!" Elladan's laughing voice made her look up from her book, to once again land at the identical figures sprawled on the grass next to her, the napkins full of fresh toasts seeming to have been forgotten momentarily at their feet.

"He's going to freeze!" Elrohir yelled in return and she let her eyes follow the path of their gleaming silver irises to look at the Hufflepuff boy hovering at the lake's edge as if deciding whether to jump or not.

The ruse had been going on for a good half an hour now, and yet the twins continued to yell just as they did when they first noticed the crowd of Hufflepuffs cheering and crying out to their peer. She couldn't tell if it was a dare or the student simply trying to prove himself funny or brave, but it was about the fifth time the boy attempted to jump into the smooth black surface only to chicken out at the very last minute.

"And…" Elladan chanted -"he didn't do it…." Elrohir continued where his identical replica had left off -"again." They said in unison, Elladan picking a crumbling toast and biting into it eagerly.

She let out a light chuckle, suppressing her urge to roll her eyes at the twins as she closed her book on her lap, giving up on her reading at the hundredths of conversations and laughter going on around her. It seemed that with November's first Saturday's arrival every single student in the castle was trying to make the most of the few days left to enjoy the vast outdoors, before the cold and bitter winter snows confined them to the castle until spring. Still, as the cold breeze had her huddling her scarf closer to her neck, being confined to the warmth of the castle did not sound so bad at the moment.

The gold and orange leaves carpeted over the once green grass, many of them floating weightlessly over the lake's black surface in an eerily magical dance, shimmering beautifully under the few rays of sunlight that managed to filter through the greying sky. It would rain in the night, she could anticipate it in the humid wind.

"Look, Look! There he goes again!" Elrohir's hand pointed once again as he grinned mischievously once more at the hesitating Hufflepluff boy.

"He's not going to jump." She laughed, for the first time joining in their conversation and only to be ignored by Elladan suddenly shouting loudly "JUST JUMP ALREADY!" making her realize it was a wonder that the twins had not yet stood up and pushed the boy into the lake themselves by that point.

Instead she let the twins yell and laugh at the poor scared boy as her eyes wondered across the vast open space, lingering shortly over the many high towers of the castle before landing on a certain spot she had been throwing hidden glanced for the past half an hour.

Thranduil Lasgalen was still there, sitting casually on the grass under the sparse shade of a yellow tree, his long silver hair looking paler under the sunlight, and it was the strange of lack of that iced wall that seemed to always surround him what made it impossible for her to look away. Legolas was sprawled next to him, beside long rows of neatly laid out collectible cards that they had been counting for a while now, surrounded by a lot more of yet unopened chocolate frogs. And yet for once the elder Lasgalen did not look cold, that regal air of power and authority that seemed to surround him suddenly gone, as if all the iced walls and barriers that seemed to surround him could suddenly melt away, a thing that she only ever seen happen when in the presence of his younger brother. She had not seen him since they last met at the library to go over the potions paper, and he had barely spoken to her at all, a frozen silence settling between the two of them as she watched his slanted calligraphy dancing over parchments.

"I've got four Dumbledores." She could hear Legolas saying with a soft giggle, always so carefree and warm, almost the opposite of his cold mysterious and reserved brother.

"Do you want mine?" Thranduil said in return, his deep voice carrying a most unusual playful sound, suddenly warm as well, a smirk gleaming in his ice blue eyes as he casually threw a card in Legolas' direction, the latter throwing it back as soon as it landed, the card hitting his brother on the ear, making him laugh in return.

"What am I going to do with another one! I told you I have four already!" The boyish laugher almost made her smile, the younger Lasgalen stretching one of his pale hands to grab at one of the unopened chocolate frogs, the emerald lined sleeves of his Hogwarts robe slightly too long for him.

"What did you get?" Thranduil's eager voice asked as he leaned closer to his brother, as if trying to peek over his shoulder, and she was again puzzled yet curious at the carefree sound of his usually perfectly controlled voice. It was like looking at a different person. It only made her smile widen as she saw Legolas huddling his hands closer to him, looking at the card while purposely blocking his brother's view.

"Oh, come on! Let me see!" She could her the older Lasgalen complaining impatiently, now very obviously twisting his head in an effort to look at the card, his right hand attempting to grab at Legolas' fingers, which were tightly clasped around the item. "What did you get? Is it Morgana? If it is Morgana then its mine!"

"Thran stop! I haven't looked at it yet!" Legolas laughed as he managed to wriggle his hands away from his brother's ones, which were still trying to grab at the card. Instead she could see Legolas' arm flying high in the air, as if believing that raising the card high would put it out of his brother's reach.

"I saw you looking!" the older brother pointed out, slender fingers quickly stealing the card in Legolas' raised hand, the movement so fast that it took the younger brother a couple of seconds to realize it was gone.

"Hey! Give it back!" Legolas said as he snatched the card back into his smaller hands, but it was already too late for his older brother was now opening laughing as he looked at the card, not placing the smallest of resistances. And yet it was again a most puzzling yet enchanting sight for her, his laughter so natural, so open, then why was he so cold and bitter all the time?

"You can keep your Dumbledore. I don't want it." Thranduil said in between chuckles, only making his younger brother laugh loudly then, throwing the fifth Dumbledore into his pile of cards.

"You wanted it when you thought it was Morgana." Legolas pointed out, his hand picking up a new chocolate frog package from the grass, only to be stopped by his brother's hand.

"Eat one of mine now." The older Lasgalen said as he threw one of the chocolate frog packages that were bunched to his left.

"But I get to keep the card." Legolas warned as his fingers starting deftly peeling away at the wrapping, his soft blue eyes gleaming at his brother, as if expecting the exact answer he would get.

"No, the card is mine. You already opened five or yours, so let's open one of mine before you have your last one. There are twelve frogs and we said six and six." Thranduil stressed his words, his lips curving up in a smile at his brother who seemed to be openly ignoring him.

"We said eight for me and four for you." Legolas added, eyes shimmering with mischief as his hand sneaking away two of the frogs from Thranduil's pile. "Besides you don't even like chocolate!"

"We never said that!" She could see Thranduil laughing in return, his hand snatching back the two frogs his brother had stolen. "Six and six, so now hurry up and eat mine so that I can see what I got."

"I already had five." Legolas complained in return under his brother's playfully dangerous glare before he held his hands up defensively. "All right, I'll open it so can get your card, but I'll eat it later."

"Then I'll open it." Thranduil muttered, his quick fingers once again taking the half-open package from his younger brother's hands and gracefully pulling out the card and resealing the package before the enchanted frog could jump out of the box.

"There's your frog." He added as he handed it back to his younger brother who only rolled his eyes before muttering to himself "A cardless boring frog this is." But his brother was too busy suddenly laughing at the card in his hands to listen to him.

"What is it? What did you get?" Legolas' eyes had grown wide as he asked impatiently, now throwing himself over his brother's shoulder to sneak a peek in the same way the older Lasgalen had done before.

"It's yours." Thranduil said with a slight shake of his head, handing his brother the card for the eleven-year-old to open his mouth in a disappointed smile.

" _Another_ Dumbledore?! What's wrong with these frogs!" He exclaimed as he threw the card back at his brother before lifting his hands in the air, trying to make it very clear that he would not be accepting the card, but unluckily for him his older brother managed to slip the card in his robes' pocket, letting out a chuckle as Legolas smaller hands quickly went in to fish it out.

"Look who's coming." Legolas lowered his voice, making her have to read his lips to catch what he was saying, his blonde head nodding to the side as she caught sight of Thranduil's eyes suddenly looking in that direction, following his brother's mocking eyes.

She turned her eyes too, follow the direction Legolas had indicated and found her stomach twisting once more as she caught sight of Alexis Sonnet's slender and graceful figure walking –no, that was more like waltzing and floating- in the Lasgalen's direction, her gorgeous long dark hair loose around her porcelain heart-shaped face. She looked beautiful – but then again, when did she not? – The dark Hogwarts robe only making her pale skin look smoother, her light green eyes contrasting stunningly with her dark lashes.

"It's time for you to go." Thranduil smiled at his brother, pushing him lightly away.

"No way." The younger brother pouted, eyes narrowing at his brother. "You only want me to leave so that you two can look into each other's eyes like this." Legolas sang mockingly, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly and then quickly managing to dodge a playful hit form his brother.

"If you go now I'll give you one of my chocolate frogs." The older brother negotiated. "with the card!" He was quick to add just as Legolas opened his mouth to argue.

"Three chocolate frogs with the cards and you won't see me around until dinner." The younger brother crossed his arms and only by the suspicious look in Thranduil's face she could tell that he had lost and he knew it.

"Fine. Take three." Thranduil gave up, the little Lasgalen grinning widely as he quickly grabbed three unopened chocolate frogs before his brother could change his mind and left in a gleeful sprint.

Her stomach twisted all the more as she saw the beautiful Slytherin girl lowering herself next to the older Lasgalen, whispering something to him too low for her to hear it, his arms wrapping almost immediately around her waist as she dropped a kiss on his marble cheek. And once again, his previously warm liquid blue eyes had frozen underneath ice crystals, his expression once again controlled, impenetrable, all the emotions she had seen previously swirling in those endless ocean eyes once again concealed, forgotten.

"He's in!" Elladan's sudden cry made her eyes return to the twins, the loud splash followed by cheering coming from the lake's edge letting her know that the Hufflepuff boy had finally jumped into the lake. Both of the twins were laughing loudly next to her, suddenly looking more identical than ever, perfect replicas of one another.

"That water most be ice cold." Elrohir chuckled as he carelessly brushed a strand of his long dark hair behind his shoulder before his liquid silver eyes turned to look in her direction, his hands gathering the now empty napkin from the grass and letting the few bread crumbs left tumble into the mantle of golden leaves. "Let's head inside before it rains."

True to his words, the sky above had turned grey underneath a heavy cloak of clouds, the frail golden sunlight that filtered in sparse rays throughout the afternoon now completely dulled out. Some of the students were already heading back inside, pulling the hoods of their robes over their heads in an effort to block the colder humid breeze.

Silently, Sigrid picked up the heavy book from her lap before standing up and brushing the few fallen leaves that had stuck to her black Hogwarts robes and following the twins up the wide steps and into the grand entrance hall. They barely made it inside as a the few gentle drops of cold rain battered into the ground, the students left outside suddenly hurrying up to pick their stuff and run inside as the rain grew heavier and heavier.

And it did not stop. The heavy sound of the rain drumming against the towers and crystals accompanied them all through the rest of the afternoon and into the Great Hall for dinner, the golden sunlight now forgotten, the sky dark and thundering above their heads, drowning the chatter with its lulling sound. Even in the usually vivid and welcoming Gryffindor common room, the rain seemed to water down the warm atmosphere, the students huddled up in quiet groups by the fire and many of them retiring to be early.

She tried to get ahead with her homework, after Eowyn had already given up on hers and retired to the bedroom, but even as she tried to concentrate her eyes kept darting outside the window and down into the water covered lands. No moonlight lighted the air, the stars hidden underneath he heavy clouds, and the droplets of waters smashed violently against the window crystals before sliding down in blurry wiggly paths.

She did not know how long she sat there, first attempting to do homework, then pretending to do her homework, and finally just watching out the window as the crackling flames in the fireplace grew weaker and weaker, the ample common room now completely empty for long hours. Yet she could not sleep, did not even feel tired as the gloomy sad sky made her feel uneasy, nightly rains waking memories she did not want to remember. It had been raining hard that night too, she could remember it drumming loudly on the roof above her childhood bedroom…

Shaking her head slightly, Sigrid quietly rose from her spot by the window, barely glancing around the empty seats of the room before heading up the curving stone steps and into her bedchamber. Perhaps a peaceful walk through the sleeping castle would help her get tired, would help her mind to thinking of something else. She tiptoed into the dark chamber, trying not to wake anyone in the process as she made her way towards her bed, where the deep red curtains were still drawn closed from the night before. Opening her trunk as quietly as she could manage, Sigrid pulled out the long invisibility cloak she had borrowed from the twins a couple of nights before and had not yet returned, wrapping it securely over her as she tried her best to ignore the voice inside her head that kept reminding her that walking at night through the castles hallways was forbidden.

Instead she made her way outside the portrait hole, the fat lady dressed in pink snoring loudly as she slipped past her, descending many spiraling steps and submerging herself into the empty silent hallways, the long shadows of the columns flickering hollowly every time she passed one of the lighted torches. She walked past the Great Hall and towards deeper areas of the castle, searching for the places where the drumming of the rain would be less noisy, easier to ignore, her heart stopping every time she heard a sound only to remind herself that nobody could see her, she would not get in trouble.

She walked past the kitchen, the long hallways and ample staircases leading down and down, every time seeing less and less windows. The thousands of paintings of the walls were either snoring deeply or looking bored as their eyes darted from left to right, seeming to have nothing to look at in the empty darkness. Only one painting of a short funny looking wizard in what seemed to be a farm was making a lot of noise as he claimed to the other sleeping paintings that his sheep had moved and he could no longer find them. That almost made her laugh, but she had to stop herself just in time and remember that she could not be seen but could most certainly be heard, and she did not want any of the paintings to tell on her if they found out there was someone out of bed this late at night.

Instead she continued on her way, turning right into yet another long hallway lined with tall crystal windows before her heart nearly stopped again. She froze as the unmistakable sound of footsteps approached her direction in rushed walk, and she made herself as unmoving as stone and as silent as the tall imposing walls as her eyes caught sight of a dark silhouette appearing at the darker end of the hallway, too far still for her to recognize but coming closer and closer, walking fast. For a second she feared her heart would jump out of her chest with anxiety as she silently debated whether to stay right where she was and not move for fear or making a sound, or simply move to one side of the hallway for the figure to walk right past her without a chance of collision.

But her fear quickly disappeared as she finally caught sight of approaching figure, that silver long hair and pale skin impossible to miss. She remained frozen where she was, a thousand of questions rising inside her head as she watched Thranduil Lasgalen approach, pace rushed, almost running, and she could see his hands shaking violently at his sides, his fast equally shaky breathing loud enough for her to hear, seeming to be coming in a desperate gasps of air, but he did not seem to care if anyone noticed him out of bed, in fact he did not even seem fully aware of where he was, he seemed shocked? Scared? She did not move, watching as he hurried towards one of the long tall windows, yet unaware of her presence as his shaking fingers fumbled with the window latch, seeming to be trebling too much to be able to open it, and it seemed to despair him further, frustrate him as she could hear his breathing coming faster and heavier, his ice blue eyes wide, glazed, terrified. He was frightened, frightened beyond she had seen anyone be before, but of what?

Here's chapter 7! I op enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

Thank you thank you again to Rose 61393 and VayaNoldo22 for your comments! :) you're amazing!

Love,

Elena


	8. Curiosity

She stood there petrified in the long hallway, watching, not wanting the slightest of movements to give away her presence. But it seemed that Lasgalen would not notice her, no matter if she moved. He stood in front of the window, his long fingers fumbling desperately with the latch, shaking too much for him to even get a solid grip on the metal piece.

She had never seen anyone look so frightened, so terrified. But of what? He was visibly trembling, his breathing coming out in panicked gasps of air as his hands continued their futile fight with the unyielding latch, his right hand resourcing to hitting the crystal as if trying to push it open by force. And she didn't know whether it was her sudden fear that someone would hear the noise and get them in trouble for being out of bed this late at night, or the sheer fear that she saw consuming his ice colored eyes what finally made her move.

"Here." She heard her voice before she realized she had spoken, the thick invisibility cloak sliding from over her head and landing deafly on the cold stone floor. His head snapped in her direction, eyes widening in surprise at her sudden appearance, a look that was quickly replaced as she let her own steady fingers open the window latch in a single deft move.

Not even a second after, his pale hands were pushing the crystals wide open, making her jump back immediately as the pourring rain suddenly splashed into the hallway, quickly making a puddle at their feet. But Thranduil did not seem to care, instead leaning heavily over the wooden windowsill, his eyes suddenly closed as he took desperate, shaky gulps of air, the heavy raindrops sliding down his chiseled cheeks and dancing down his loose strand of silver hair. What could have possibly render anyone this scared? This shaken?

Sigrid swallowed dryly, her mind spinning with thousands of unvoiced questions as she silently made her way to the twins' invisibility cloak laid forgotten on the floor, letting herself sit down next to it, her back against the hallway's cold wall. She didn't know how long she sat there, but for some reason she did not want to leave, watching as the puddle in the floor grew larger and larger, Lasgalen's long hair now dripping wet directly across from her. At last he seemed to be regaining his breath, as if the freezing smashing raindrops were slowly calming him down. But why had he been so desperate to let the rain in? So desperate to open that window? She herself had been trying to escape from those drops of icy water that were now slowly creeping their way over the stone floor to her feet, making her put her knees against her chest as she waited.

It seemed an eternity before Lasgalen moved. Slowly, very slowly he turned around, sliding down to sit on the floor across the hallway from her and underneath the still open window, the rain continuing to pour over him even as he sat there taking slow deep breaths. His eyes swept over hers, once again cold, impenetrable glaciers, hard and unwelcoming yet stunning, piercing through hers like darts for a split of a second before looking down to his shaking hands, not turning to look back at her again. She felt as if she was in the Hospital Wing all over again, watching something she was not supposed to, and having his burning eyes grill her for it. She let out a silent breath, her hands slowly folding the thick elegant cloak before starting to rise from the floor.

"Don't go." His words stopped her in her tracks, eyes not even turning back up as he spoke, his voice steady yet threaded with the unmistakable fear she had seen in his eyes moments ago. And she didn't know why, but that was enough for her to not argue, slowly sitting back down against the wall as she laid the cloak neatly folded over her lap. He did not seem to particularly want her company, but it seemed clear that he would rather not be left alone.

Silence danced hollowly between the two of them to the chorus of a thousand raindrops, the wind every now and then smacking the crystals of the window against each other in a tinkling melody.

"What were you doing out in the hallways?" He broke the silence, ice blue eyes turning once more to look at hers and even though she wanted nothing more than ask him the same question, she guessed that was not the direction in which he intended this conversation to go. She could see that his hands where still trembling, although less noticeably now, but whatever it was that had scared him still had him shaken.

"Could not sleep." She shrugged, but that seemed to be enough of a response for him for he just nodded his head in reply.

"Is the cloak yours?" He asked, pointing at the folded garment on her lap with his eyes.

"It's the twins', I borrowed it some time ago but haven't returned it yet." She was slightly confused by his sudden interest in small talk, but if sitting in the hallway talking about nothing was somehow helping him, she would play along.

"The twins? The Peredhel twins?"

"Yes" She added, once again remembering that they were in completely different houses and not necessarily knew or were friends with the same people. "They are in our potions class, I'm sure you've-

"Yes, I know them." He cut her short, but not harshly. "That they own an invisibility cloak explains a lot."

She let out a small chuckle at that, it seemed that no matter the house, Elladan and Elrohir's mischief was well known all over the school. "Yes it certainly does."

"Would you not rather move to somewhere dry?" She asked, unable to contain herself as she noticed that he was now completely drenched, the rain still pouring freely inside the castle.

"No." He said shortly, and it was the sharp look inside his deep ice blue eyes that made her decide against arguing further.

"Ok" She nodded as silence settled again. Even if she would rather not to, she could handle getting a little wet, but it seemed that at this moment he would not handle moving from where he sat. What had frightened him so?

"Are you alright?" She finally asked, letting her eyes study him carefully. For a moment he only stared at her in return, suddenly wary, as if trying to predict if she would ask more detailed questions if he answered.

"Yes" He did not elaborate, his voice sounding convincing but she did not believe him. This was all too familiar to her, this small talk that he seemed perfectly comfortable with carrying and the sudden coldness and wariness that would build around him like an impenetrable wall when asked a question of a more personal nature. But this time she did not push it. Instead she shifted the conversation to a light topic once more, which seemed to be at least helping him slowly calm down.

"When's your next Quidditch match?" Really? Was that the best she could think of? But then again it seemed that pointless questions like this was the kind of conversation he was looking for.

"Not sure." He furrowed his brow as if trying to recall a specific date. "Two weeks? Three weeks?"

"Are you not _supposed_ to know that for sure?" She laughed lightly at the absurdity of it. He was the team's captain was he not?

"I _should_ know, actually." He looked slightly confused now, and slightly embarrassed about it, an expression that she had to admit looked adorable in his usually cold and distant face, only making her laugh once more before gaining a glare in return.

"Don't let your teammates know that their captain doesn't know when they are playing next." She could not hold herself back from continuing to mock him and surprisingly, against any reaction she had expected, he laughed. It was a sound she had not expected to hear from such an ice-cold person. Strangely, he did not seem so cold now, even if he still felt distant.

"Do _you_ know when the next game is?" Thranduil narrowed his eyes at her, but she just shook her head in reply.

"Not a clue. I don't particularly like Quidditch." She shrugged. Oh Eowyn would have a heart attack if she could hear her right now.

"Now you are offending me, Bowman" He added, a half smirk curving up in his marble face. "Why would you not like Quidditch?"

"I don't like flying." She was quick to answer, his eyes suddenly looking at her as if she had confessed to having broken into Gringotts and stolen all the gold from every single vault, making her feel the urge to defend her statement. "I like my feet on the ground, where the fall cannot kill me."

"You are being serious?" He was judging her now, oh she could tell.

"Incredibly serious. I don't like flying, I don't like the idea of flying. I've only tried it once for flying class and dropped the class after the first day." Only thinking of looking at the objects all tiny many _many_ meters below her feet made chills travel down her spine.

"You've _only flown once_? " He was looking at her intently now, as if he could simply not fathom how what she was saying could be true. Well, even if he was completely judging her the conversation seemed to have at least distracted him enough to forget about whatever had him so deadly scared before.

"Yes. Once. And I have no interest in trying it again." She clarified. He continued to look at her as if she was the strangest thing he had seen in his life.

"You are ridiculous." He concluded, shaking his head lightly and making a few raindrops splattered from his dripping silver hair.

She shrugged once more before speaking. "I am not the one sitting under the freezing rain getting drenched unnecessarily."

He chuckled lightly, to her surprise standing up and gently closing the window shut once more before sitting down again, the hallway suddenly quieter now that the rain could no longer drum on the already flooded hallway.

"You are still ridiculous." He added, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against the windowsill.

"Well some people like flying and others don't." She continued. "I know Tilda likes flying, but she's not very good at it."

"Tilda? You sister?" He opened one of his eyes to look at her, watching her nod her head. "She's the sane one, then."

She silently cursed that he had his eyes closed once more for he could not see the death glare she was throwing him right at the moment. Instead she remained silent once more, not really feeling like trying to make more small talk, watching as he just sat there, her fingers tracing endless patterns on the folded cloak at her lap.

And it was then when she heard it. Footsteps approaching down the hallway. Her heart flipped inside her chest as she started to quickly get up, but it was too late for at that second none other than Professor McGonagall rounded the corner, eyes widening slightly as she caught sight of them. Oh, she was dead. There was no way McGonagall would let them go without detention. A quick glance to her side let her know that Lasgalen too had heard the approaching footsteps for he was also once again on his feet, suddenly looking completely composed.

"Merlin!" McGonagall exclaimed as she hurried towards them, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes scrutinizing them head to toe in a manner that made Sigrid suddenly feel like a guilty toddler being reprimanded by a parent.

"What do you both think you are doing? Out of bed at this hour!" McGonagall spoke, even though her narrowed, disappointed eyes kept looking at her only, as if Thranduil did not merit the reprimand.

"Lasgalen, you come here before you freeze." The professor snapped, one hand impatiently motioning for the soaking wet Slythering to approach, face stern, leaving no space for argument. She watched as Thranduil obeyed almost immediately, McGonagall giving a quick flick of her wand that left the student completely dry, even if the latter did not seem too happy about it.

"Both of you, follow me." McGonagall added, not waiting before turning around and marching down the hallway, both students following at her heels. Sigrid's heart felt as if it wanted to jump out of her chest as they silently walked down the long deserted hallways and up many stairs. Just what she had been trying to avoid. Getting caught. And now here she was, following McGonagall most probably to her office and most certainly on her way to receiving a tedious and long detention.

They walked for what felt like ages, the castle never before having felt as large and empty as it did at that moment. Finally, they stopped in front of a very familiar winged statue, her heart once again giving another flip and her face paling as she realized where they were being taken.

"Pumpkin Cauldrons." McGonagall voiced echoed on the stone, the statue suddenly moving away as a staircase started to spiral up and up until she lost sight of the first few risers.

"Professor Dumbledore will see to you. And after that I would recommend going directly to breakfast, as if appears you have stayed the entire night chatting out in the hallway. And you have both lost twenty points from your respective houses." McGonagall's voice dripped with ice, thin eyebrows high on her forehead as she gave them another reproachful look, motioning with her hand for them to climb the stairs.

And they did not wait to be told twice, both of them immediately climbing up the spiraling steps, up and up and up, until they reached the familiar rounded small vestibule where her eyes could do nothing that stare at the large majestic wooden door ahead. Lasgalen was the one to knock, for it seemed that the Gryffindor, ironically, had lost all of her courage.

"Enter" The voice echoed from the other side of the large door, Thranduil pushing it open slowly, both of them tentatively walking into the ample round room that comprised Dumbledore's office.

In her four years at Hogwarts, Sigrid had been there only once, and the room greeted her again as if she had never seen it before, fascinating, crowded with wall high overflowing bookcases and lighted with hundreds of flying candles. Professor Dumbledore sat at his large wooden desk, the surface covered with open books and folded parchments, an exquisite quill held elegantly in his long fingers, still scribbling something on a slightly curling page.

"Ah, Bowman, Lasgalen." The professor greeted them, his voice always gentle and welcoming, even as his blue eyes pierced them deeply behind his half-moon spectacles, and for a second she had the familiar feeling that he already knew exactly why they were there. Carefully, the headmaster put his quill aside, motioning with his hand for them to take the seats in front of him before folding both hands over the many parchments on the desk. And for a moment he just stared at them, looking closely from one to the other, eyes seeming to penetrate them completely, as if able to access the deepest parts of their minds.

"Apart from you both being out of bed at night, is there something else I should know?" He asked patiently, as if merely talking about the weather, and even though he directed the question to both of them his blue eyes stared only at Thranduil, looking at him deeply and for a second she wonder if there was something being silently said between his words.

"No, sir." Lasgalen's face remained as composed and expressionless as ever, but it seemed that the headmaster accepted that as an answer with a small nod of his head.

"Therefore I trust that I do not need to contact your father, Lasgalen?" Dumbledore added as patiently as before, yet his eyes continued to study the Slytherin deeply. Now there was definitely something being said in between words. She turned to look at Thranduil, trying in vain to read something in his face, but his expression remained as composed and blank as ever, a perfectly carved marble statue. Only Dumbledore seemed to be able to see through his mask.

"No, sir." Came the same answer, the headmaster once again nodding his head slowly in return.

"I trust that you would let know if something was….amiss?" Dumbledore's eyes bore through Lasgalen intensely now, and she was sure that had it been her she would have cracked under that stare. But what were they talking about?

"Yes, sir." Thranduil replied, face as still as before, not even moving an inch.

"Good." The headmaster smiled, the eyes once again soft as he leaned back on his chair. "I believe you both know that you have gained detention for being in the hallways at such late hour. You will report to Professor McGonagall on Friday after classes are over."

"Yer, sir." They replied in unison this time, Sigrid playing nervously with her hands on her lap. Detention. Great. Perfect. Wonderful.

"Very well, that being said, Bowman wait for me here while I escort Lasgalen back to the Slythering House." She nodded her head immediately, not trusting her voice to speak again as she silently watched both the headmaster and Thranduil rising to their feet and starting to walk out of the room. And yet, it was Lasgalen's pursed lips and hard eyes what let her know that the headmaster was not merely 'escorting' the student back to the Slytherin dungeon. Whatever it was it was clear that it was not for her to know. But that only made her all the more curious as she heard the door silently shutting close, leaving her alone in the midst of this splendid circular room. And why would Dumbledore need to contact Thranduil's father? He did not mention anything about contacting her father, so it could not have been to tell him about them meriting detention. It had to be something else, but what?

She felt restless, anxious, her mind going around in circles of questions for which she could find no answer, and before she knew it she found herself pacing the room impatiently, her hands inside the pockets of her school robes. She let her eyes wonder through the many books on the shelves, studying their titles, their shapes, their colors. She went shelf by shelf, trying to find the biggest book of the shelf and then the smallest, the one that looked the oldest and then the one that looked the newest. And it was then that she came across a book that had a very particular title at the very beginning of the next wall-long bookshelf. Except that it was not a book tile. It was a name. And it was not a book. It was a leather binder. She scanned around the other books in that area, and from floor to ceiling the wall was filled with the identical looking files, all with different names on them. These were not books. These were student files.

Her eyes threw a glance at the large wooden doors, confirming that it was still closed and that she was still alone before quickly looking for her name, finding it easily in between Tilda's and Bain's, not thinking it twice before pulling it out. And it was indeed student files what she had found. She let her eyes roam through the parchments neatly held inside, and everything was there. From all her information, birth date, birth place, parents, to her medical records, all the few injuries she had sustained inside and outside Hogwarts, to her grades in every class she had ever taken, and even every single detention she had ever received. Everything was there. And then, before she could stop herself, another thought crossed her mind, her hands quickly closing her file and placing it back on the shelf before scanning once again through the thousands of names, easily finding the file she was looking for.

 _Thranduil Lasgalen_ read in the same curly golden letters on the cover as she held the file in between her hands, fighting internally with herself. She wanted nothing more than to open it, nothing more than to finally find out why he was taking a fourth-year potions class when he should be taking the sixth-year class, or if it was indeed true that he was top of his class. But then again, there was the voice in her head that told her that she should not open the file, that whatever information it contained was not for her to see. She had no business in looking at it. But why was curiosity so hard to resist?

And she glanced once more at the door, the decision already made inside her head as her eyes suddenly fell upon the many parchments inside, dancing from left to right. _Thranduil Oropher Lasgalen…..birth London, February 19, 1992…_ Everything was there as well….he had an Outstanding in nearly every single class, although there were a few marked as ' _incomplete',_ a couple of detentions here and there but not too many…but it was not that what made her blood run cold in shock at what she found, suddenly wishing she had not opened the file at all.

Lasgalen's medical records had to be the thickest file she had ever seen, the parchment on the very top reading _St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, admitted October 23 2007, discharged October 28, 2007, 'treatment'…._ That had been only a few weeks ago, the week he missed after she had seen him in the Hospital Wing that night. And she continued to look, her eyes now darting from page after page…. _St. Mungo's, September 4, 2007 to September, 7…'treatment'….July 1 to July 15, 2007, 'treatment'….March 19 to March 25…'treatment'…St. Mungo's Hospital….'treatment'…..January 14 to January 17, 2007…'treatment'…._

The words ran before her eyes, her hands shaking at what she was reading….there were two weeks on past December in St. Mungo's as well, and the whole month of August, then at least 18 times admitted the year before that, and a few more times the year before, and even more the previous one, then a few less the previous year ….. _'treatment'….'treatment'….St. Mungo's Hospital….April 9 to April 14, 2002….._ There was not a single year that did not have at least 10 visits to St. Mungo's, and those visits seemed to grow more and more frequent as she went through the years, all of them labeled 'treatment', even though her own files were labeled with detail descriptions of every injury, here it didn't give a single detail….There were at least 50 visits in 1999, a few more in 1998, and the very last file read _St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, admitted June 6, 1996, discharged December 22, 1997, 'treatment'_ …..behind that there was nothing, only the St. Mungo's certificate of birth. Her eyes stared at the dates again…. June 6, 1996 – December 22, 1997….nearly a year and a half. Whatever was the reason for the multiple hospital visits, it had not been there before June 6, 1996….doing the math Thranduil had been only four, there were no visits before that, then what had happened? What _was_ happening?

Here's chapter 8! Let me know what you think!

Thank you so much Amsim and Rose61393 for reviewing! :) I'm so happy you enjoyed the last chapter!

Love,

Elena


	9. Detention

"Sig!" Eowyn whined next to her, sky blue eyes throwing her that disapproving look she already knew all too well. Her friend's bony hand curled around her arm, attempting to pull her away through the mass of students that filled the long stone hallways, and Sigrid had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. "No way, Sig. Not again. You're always at the library after classes. Come eat dinner with us for once!"

The vivid chatter that filled the hall from all the students finally done with the week's classes was loud enough for their words to not call any attention. As usual, with the promise of the weekend ahead, it seemed that every student was already eager to enter into the comforting warmth of the Great Hall and joining in to joke and celebrate with their friends. Friday's were always the same.

"I have work to do." She complained, readjusting her bag- which was a little heavier than it should have been with books- over her shoulder, managing to break herself free from her friend's grasp. She was only thankful that the twins were nowhere to be seen for she was sure they would have managed to carry her all the way to the Great Hall without even listening to her protests.

"You always have work to do!" Eowyn chastised, shaking her head as she swayed her arms in exasperation. "We're in the same classes! What work could you have that I don't?"

"I just want to get ahead." She lied. Still, she knew that her lie would go on unnoticed, after all she had a reputation for liking the solitude of the library. "Besides, I have detention with McGonagall, remember?"

She hated to say that out loud again, but she knew that Eowyn would let her be under that excuse. Not that it was an excuse, for she did have detention with McGonagall in just a little less than an hour. It had been humiliating enough that night, well morning really, after she returned to the Gryffindor common room only to admit to her friends that she had been caught walking through the halls at night and now had to attend detention. Not that any of her friends had found that humiliating and embarrassing in the slightest, Elladan and Elrohir torn in between celebrating her for finally doing something against the school rules and chastising her for being as dumb as to being caught in the act.

She left out Lasgalen from her story though, not telling any of her friends – not even Eowyn in secret- that he had been a partial reason as to why she had been caught. She also failed to mention that he too had detention with her in less than an hour. And still, she could not really tell why she had left it out, why she had been so intent into keeping it a secret. But she could not get herself to tell it, already knowing the questions that Eowyn would ask, the way her eyes would throw warning looks at her as if to tell her that she should get away from him, that he only ever caused trouble. And then there was the fact that if she mentioned him in the tale, then she would need to explain why he had been there with her, and she could not get herself to speak of how utterly frightened and shaken she had found him.

It was all too strange and yet she could not get it out of her mind, like parasitic thought that had made a host of her head and she could not get away from it. She owed no loyalty to Lasgalen whatsoever, could not even consider him a friend. Then why did it bother her to tell anyone just frightened he had been? That she had seen him at all that night? It made no sense, but she felt as if she would be betraying a secret that she had not been asked to keep.

"Fine." Eowyn sighed begrudgingly, one of her hands placing a loose strand of her long golden waves behind her ear, rolling her sky blue eyes at her. "But you have to tell me everything about your detention later."

"I will." She promised, letting out a silent chuckle at her friend's interest in hearing about detention as if it was the school's latest gossip.

Not wanting Eowyn to change her mind and start questioning her again, she quickly started making her way through the crowd of students. She did not miss the occasional odd looks that were thrown her way, as she was obviously heading in the opposite direction of the mass of chatting students, but she could not have cared less.

She reached the library sooner than she had expected, her mind too full of questions and thoughts for her to fully be aware of her surroundings. And just as she had expected, it was empty. Good. She liked it empty.

Only Madam Pince occupied the room, as usual, her eyes not even lifting from a heavy tome she had over her desk as she heard the door open. Her black pointy hat suddenly appeared more menacing than ever before, and ugly twisted thing that made her face look longer and paler. Shaking her head slightly, and not wanting to be too noticed by the stern librarian, Sigrid made her way towards her usual table, the long wooden surface empty of any books and stretching vast into one corner of the room, next to the roaring fireplace.

She set her bag down on once of the chair, wincing slightly at the sound it made as the heavy books inside it collided with the wooden seat. She really should take some books out and leave them in her trunk in the Gryffindor tower instead of carrying them around. Her deep brown eyes searched for the large enchanted clock placed high on the wall over the fireplace. She had forty minutes before she had to show up at McGonagall's office, so she better use her time efficiently.

Without wasting another second, Sigrid made her way through the tall imposing shelves full of books of every single color, height and thickness, her feet seeming to know the way through the maze of books almost by heart. But of course she knew the way. She knew exactly where to look, she had been here the entire week, digging her nose through nearly every copy of the Daily Prophet that was stored in this particular shelf.

And once again, she could not really find any logical reason for what she was doing, as to why she was so intent in finding out something that she did not even know what it was. But she could not shake it out of her head, could not force her mind free from it. She could still see the slanted letters flying in front of her eyes….. _St. Mungo's Hospital….'treatment'…_ So many dates, so many weeks sometimes months… _September 4 2007 to September 7 2007…April 9 to April 14 2002….._ She could not shake it out her mind, her curiosity stronger than her. And then there was that date, the one that she could still see plainly written behind her eyes every time she closed them….. _June 6, 1996._ There had been a year and half spent in St. Mungo's at that date, and none before that…..whatever happened needed to have started that day. But what? What was she looking for? Why was she looking for it? It was certainly none of her business.

She should never had opened that file at Dumbledore's office. She had had no right into looking inside it. And yet she had, and now that she had she could not shake off the feeling that she needed to know, her curiosity taking the most of her. She took a dep breath as she reached her destination, facing the tall imposing shelf full to bursting of old wrinkled copies of the Daily Prophet, glad that the school kept them as resources for research. It had been hell to find the section of newspaper's printed in 1996, and even more a torturous task to find any copy belonging to June of that year. But she had found them. It had taken her nearly the entire week to find where those copies where located in this massive shelf, all the while cursing Madam Pince for not labeling them, but she had found them.

She let her fingers travel to the pile of newspapers that belonged to June 1996, carefully taking them out of the self, looking out to not damage even a single corner of a page. A cloud of dust exploded in the air, as it always did, and she had to shake one of her hands in front of her face to void sneezing.

Throwing a long look around her, as if to confirm that the library was in fact empty, she lowered herself to sit on the floor, leaning her back against the hard wooden shelves of the bookcase. It was not worth the trouble to walk these heavy newspapers back to her table. And once again she started her task of going one by one through the newspapers, looking carefully at the dates printed in small back letters at the top right corner. She had already been through all of these, and yet she kept on looking, feeling that she must have missed it, it had to be here and she had just overlooked it. But it wasn't.

She let out a frustrated sigh as she ran her fingers through her blond locks, not caring as she accidentally pulled some strands free from her messy bun. No. it had to be here. Resolving herself to look again, she started once more her long look through the pile of newspapers sitting heavily on her lap, looking overly carefully at all the dates once again and checking to make sure she did not miss any. But it was not there. There were 29 copies of the Daily Prophet for June 1996, where there should have been 30…And the dates skipped from June 5 to June 7. There was no copy for June 6.

Sighing irritated, Sigrid let her head fall back against the wooden shelf. She had gone through every newspaper in the shelf already if only to trick herself into believing that perhaps that one copy had been misplaced, but all the copies where neatly placed in accordance to dates. Even the ones she held on her lap, the entire collection of that June were placed in order, from 1 to 30, only missing that dammed 6 in the middle.

She had also already gone through every single one of these copies laying on her lap, reading even the smallest of articles, and yet she had found nothing worth of her interest. Shaking her head slightly, she took out the only two copies that so much mentioned anything related to the Lasgalens, deciding that reading those articles a third time would do no harm, picking out the copies of June 8 and June 12.

She opened the June 12 first, well she did not really need to open it for the article that she had bene looking for was right in front of her covering the first page with bold black headlines.

" **Prime Minister Oropher Lasgalen Stepping Down. Ministry Refuses to Disclose Reasons to the Press."**

Right below the large title was a picture of the regal looking wizard she had seen in one article before. His long silvery hair which fell nearly to his waist and the pale sharp features of his face were immediately recognizable, wearing formal robes of a dark burgundy. She could see flashes washing over the image, no doubt from the many cameras trying to capture it, while the wizard in question raised his hands in front of his face and refused to look directly at the front. Still the article did not say much more than the title did, and instead talked little about any reasons for the late Prime Minister's unexpected resignation. There were some speculations mentioned by odious gossiping journalists attributing it to the position being beyond the wizard's capabilities, and others that tried to attach the reasons to his wife's recent death. But no real reason was given, and the article thus went on about who would take over and which were the most popular and preferred options.

And then there was the short obituary in the Daily Prophet for June 8 that year, almost forgotten and invisible in one corner of a page. She had to search for a little while before being able to find it again. But sure enough she found the picture of that beautiful witch with platinum hair and overly pale skin smiling back at her, looking more like a woman made of snow with the Moon in her hair. Her pearly teeth shone as she smiled brightly, illuminating the deep warmth in eyes of a very familiar icy blue color, except that these were open, wide pale blue oceans that expanded welcoming and inviting.

The name below the picture read in thin slanted letters: _"Isadora L. Lasgalen, neé Isadora L. Merser. 10 December 1969 – 6 June 1996."_ There was not much written below the picture, just a few words about her and how she would be missed. It did not even mention any other names apart from her husband's Oropher Lasgalen, making her Thranduil's and Legolas' mother. And yet it was the only thing in any of the newspapers lying on her lap to mention that date: 6 June 1996. And still it did not help at all!

Letting out another frustrated sigh, she let her eyes wonder once more to the enchanted clock on the tall wall, cursing under her breath as she realized that she only had five minutes to make it to McGonagall's office. She knew better than to be late for detention. Pushing herself up, she carefully returned the newspapers back to the shelf where they belonged before walking back to her table, throwing her heavy school bag over her shoulder and grumpily leaving the quiet sanctuary of the library.

Outside the library, the long stone corridors were empty, the absence of the usual chatter and running footsteps making them feel longer and larger, the stone colder, as if it could whisper behind her back. She made her way without even paying attention where she was going, trying her best to ignore the many teasing comments she received from the paintings on the walls as she reached professor McGonagall's office.

Forcing herself to stand as straight as she could, she knocked on tall door, stepping cautiously inside as the door opened on its own after her first knock. The room inside was warm at least, warmer than the every cold that November had caste over the long corridors of the castle. A bright fire already danced in the modest fireplace, casting orange and yellow tones over the generously sized room.

"Miss Bowman." McGonagall's stern voice announced into the air as her grey piercing eyes looked at her over her delicate glasses. "I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten about coming."

Her dark brown eyes flew to the clock hanging on the wall above McGonagall's desk, noticing that she was just right on time and making a mental note of arriving early should she get any other detention with McGonagall. Apparently she expected punctuality to the maximum and arriving on time would the same as arriving late.

Thranduil Lasgalen was already there, standing patiently in front of McGongall's desk, not even turning to look at her as she entered the piece. His long silvery hair cascaded freely down his back, as it usually did, towering tall and looking slightly out of place in this warm and welcoming room. At least he had known to arrive early.

"Good." McGonagall said as she set down her quill over her large desk, looking at them both underneath her sharp gaze that made her feel the need to apologize although she didn't know for what. "Now that you have both decided to be here, you can start with your tasks for the evening."

She nodded her in imitation of Lasgalen, walking to stand next to him facing the stern professor, feeling him towering a full head taller than her. She could feel sweat starting to form on her pals, her heart racing in her chest as she anticipated what it would be they would require to do tonight. She hated detention. She hated the disapproving look that professors always gave her during it, feeling that she should have known better than to cause trouble.

"Follow me." Professor McGonagall's voice left no space for argument, rising to her feet in a swift move and already making her way towards the door before any of them could react forcing her to have to run a little to be able to catch up.

They made their way through the cold hallways in complete silence, only the soft echo of their footsteps following them through the torch-lit corridors. A thousand different scenarios and destinations ran through her mind as she tried to push them back, not daring to ask where it was they were headed. At least- and thank Merlin- not dungeons, for they were located the opposite direction in which they walked. That was a relief.

The relief, however, was short-lived, her heart flipping wildly inside her chest as she noticed McGonagall leading them right to the obscenely large pair of doors of the castle's Main Entrance. They were going outside? But it was already dark? Merlin if they made them go into the Forbidden Forest she would panic and the Sorting Hat would definitely want to reconsider ever placing her in Gryffindor.

Yes, they were definitely going outside, she noticed as McGonagall pushed one of the doors open and walked right through it. She did not show her nerves, proud of her composure as they silently made their way down the many front steps and onto the slightly damp green grass. It was a wonder it had not yet snowed.

They crossed the ample yard and walked straight towards Hagrid's Hut, her hands straightening her dark school robes to give something to do to her hands as she heard McGongall knock patiently on the plain door. There a loud noised coming from inside, as if some pots or cups had fallen messily to the floor, and loud barking suddenly filled the air.

"Ah! Professor!." The door opened to a man that was almost too large to fit through it, his thick beard and massy hair covering nearly half of his face. Sigrid did not miss the particular ugly and half-burnt cooking glove that Hagrid still carried on his right hand, and she had to force her lips to not smile at it. "Are these the trouble-makers, eh?"

"Good evening, Hagrid." McGonagall inclined her head slightly, her eyes suspiciously looking past the half-giant and into the mess she knew must be inside the little hut. "These are the students who will carry on detention tonight, yes. I trust you can take it from here?"

"Sure!." Hagrid let out a roaring laugh that McGongall did not seem to find funny in the least, her mouth still pursed into a thin line. "I know just where to take 'em! Leave 'em to me, professor."

"Good." With a curt nod of head, McGonagall turned around, throwing one long stern look that seemed to be able to turn things into ice before starting her march back to the castle, leaving her and Lasgalen standing there in front of Hagrid, waiting for instructions.

"Fang!" Hagrid called behind his back, and she nearly jumped as a large black dog emerged from the hut, wagging its tail as it barked at nothing in particular. "Ye two come with me."

Sigrid swallowed once as Hagrid led them through the dark expanse of grass following the forest's edge. There was no moon on the sky that night, and the few silvery light that the starts managed to cast through the overly cast blackened sky helped little to see. Every once in a while, she would hear an owl through the branches, or crickets on the grass. They walked for what felt like an eternity, reaching the blackened mirror surface of the lake and rounding it for long minutes until Hagrid finally stopped in a large expanse of grass to one side of it. She could see the entire castle from here, orange light shining through the many tiny windows and illuminating the tall long towers and slanted roofs as it perched right at the top of the hill.

"Yer gonna need this." Hagrid's voice broke through the silence, handing them two lanterns that only now she realized he had been carrying. She took it eagerly, watching as Lasgalen took his without uttering a single sound. "Ye see this?"

Hagrid had crouched to the ground, as low as his massive size would allow it, using his own lantern to illuminate a patch of the damp grass by his feet. She had to lower herself a little to see, and felt her eyes widen in surprise as the thin needles of grass in font of Hagrid suddenly curled and wiggled like tiny antennae.

"These weeds are killing the grass 'round 'ere. And when they go near the water, the creatures in the lake don't like 'em." Hagrid continued, his overly large hand pulling hard at the moving little green spikes. She jumped back at the thing wailed loudly in a high-pitched screech, wriggling almost non-stop in Hagrid's hand. The thing that had come out of the earth, still covered in damp dirt, resembled an overgrown radish, and she could see something that resembled little legs, like that of an insect curling over Hagrid's fingers, as if trying to climb through them. In a too quick move, Hagrid dropped it unto a tall bucket he had placed next to him – when had he even gotten it?- the creature walking with its little legs almost desperately inside, wriggling's its antennae that looked exactly like grass blades.

"Yer task'll be to root 'em out 'n place 'em in 'ere." She nodded her head as Hagrid instructed, already starting to wonder how was she supposed to distinguish them from actual grass, and already feeling she would end up pulling handfuls of grass instead of her intended target. "And be careful. They bite."

"They bite?" Lasgalen spoke for the first time in the night, his face that perfectly composed expression that let nothing through, making it impossible to guess at what he was thinking.

"Nothing'll happen to ye if they bite ye." Hagrid nearly laughed, but there was nothing comforting in that sound. She most definitely wanted to avoid any sort of magical creature bite if possible. "but mind ye, it'll hurt."

"Off ye go!" Hagrid's hands waved at them, the movement resembling more of someone trying to shoo birds away from a crop, nearly hitting her in the head accidentally. "I'll come back in two hours."

And with that she was left alone in the expanse of grass with no other company that the tall Slytherin seeker, Hagrid's enormous figure disappearing through the darkness the same way they had come. She did not move, eyes the grass around her suspiciously as she tried to make up her mid as to where to start.

She nearly jumped once more as another loud screech filled the air, her head snapping around only to find Lasaglen holding one of the little creatures in his hand, dropping it hastily on the bucket with its sibling.

"Disgusting." He commented, his lips curving up in an amused smile, the first sort of expression she had seen on his face.

"Feels like de-gnoming a garden, does it not?" She muttered in return, reaching down quickly as she noticed a little blade of grass wriggle and curl, successfully pulling out another creature which screamed and curled in her hand before rushing to drop it in the bucket.

"I don't know how that feels like." His cold velvet lined voice replied, icy blue eyes not even turning to look in her direction as they remained fixed by his feet, and she had to control herself not to shake her head at him and his arrogance. Of course he would never have de-gnomed a garden before, there were probably house elves in his no doubt gigantic manor that took care of that.

She watched his tall form as he leaned down once more, only for the create to wriggle deep into the earth just before his hand could catch it, throwing powdered dirt flying around.

"Where did it go?" He seemed puzzled, looking at the spot in which the creature had dug itself into the earth- as if they needed anything else to make this task harder.

"It was faster than you." She failed to suppress a chuckle, dropping her eyes to her feet and faking to be searching for another creature as to avoid that perfectly raised eyebrow she knew she was receiving in return. Another loud screech, but she did not turn to look as she heard him dropping the crying creature in the bucket.

"Sorry for getting you caught." Hi swords surprised him, and she turned around to look only to find him carefully inspecting the grass below before pulling another creature. And yet, his voice had been neither cold nor warm, always that regal tone that let nothing through. She did not need to ask to know that he was referring to that night on the hallway, which had gained them both this detention. It had been him the one to ask her not to leave, and she stupidly had agreed.

"What had scared you like that?" She dared voice her question, her deep brown eyes starting through him sharply, watching as he almost imperceptibly tensed, dropping the creature he had managed to caught which squirmed quickly through the grass and dug itself into the damp earth.

When his ice blue eyes flashed in her direction they were once again cold, hard, impenetrable glaciers that were impossible to read, so detached and distant from everything around him, as if that wintery wall that seemed to always surround him had built back up in less than a second.

"That is none of your business." His voice was calmed, although there was a sudden chill to it that had not been there before, eyes quickly dropping back to the grass, scanning the area around.

"It is if it got me in trouble." She persisted, knowing that it was a weak excuse of an argument as to get him to tell her, but tired and angry at his cold mysterious demeanor and useless small-talk. And too curious not to want to know.

"It was nothing." He denied her, pulling out another creature and walking away to throw it in the bucket without ever so much giving her a glance. Every single one of his moves was as graceful as a practiced dance, so effortless, standing tall and giving an air of royalty that both fascinated her and made her stomach churn in disgust.

"You were shaking." She contradicted him, even though she knew he would not like it. But why was she pushing it? Still she remembered all too well how he had been gasping for breath as his whole body trembled, his fingers not able to unclasp the window open in his fright. She had never seen anyone so frightened before, so shaken.

"I will not tell anyone." She added quickly, but it did not seem to make any difference. Besides, why would he trust her not tell anyone?

"It was nothing." He replied, his voice so casual that she would have most certainly believed him had she not seen him shaking uncontrollably under the rain with her own two eyes. And she didn't know why, but she decided to drop the subject. He was not going to tell her anyway.

"Why are you always so _friendly_?" She had to hide her glare from showing on her face, shaking her head at his attitude.

"Perhaps because you cannot keep your nose in your own business." He was smirking at her now, those icy blue eyes as impenetrable as before, making her want to erase that smile from his face.

"Ow!" Pain flashed on her right hand's index finger and she immediately dropped the wriggling creature she had forgotten she was holding. A tiny cut was open in the tip of her finger, a few drops of bright crimson already emerging from it. "It bit me."

"See?" He let out a single chuckle that floated through the silent air, an eyebrow raised high on his face. "Mind your business."

She glared at him fiercely, cursing that he was not looking at her anymore and instead concentrated on searching for yet another creature to pull. She shook her hand, deciding not to waste her energy on him. Why was he always like that? One day asking for her help and being oddly nice and the next once again this cold arrogant self that she could not really place. He was so hard to read, as if he did not want anyone reading him, and yet he was never openly mean. And yet for a second she had believed that all of these shielded self and cautious atitute of his was nothing but a mask.

Perhaps she should finally listen to Eowyng and the twins, perhaps she should finally agree with what was said around the school and admit that Lasgalen was as coldhearted and despicable as the Gryffindor's said he was. And yet, she still wanted to find out for herself. She was only glad that most of the pain had vanished from her finger, the initial sting of the bite now completely gone and dulled to a mild ache. She would survive it.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" She changed the topic of the conversation, not set on letting the silence he so liked to engulf them again, always using it as his shielding blanket. She had to admit that she herself could not wait to get out of the castle for the Satruday, the last visit to Hogsmeade felt almost too long ago.

"That is tomorrow?" He furrowed his brow as he spoke, dropping yet another creature in the bucket.

"Yes it is." She clarified, cleaning the dirt that covered her hands on her school robes- a thing that was useless at the moment for she knew she needed to continue pulling creatures from the grass. "You don't seem to pay much attention to dates."

She mocked him as he turned his eyes away from her, always distant and disinterested, recalling how he too seemed to have forgotten when his next Quidditch match was. Yet, he merely shrugged at her, as it knowing or not knowing when the next visit to the small town was did not really interest him.

"I guess I'll go, sure." He replied in that clamed tone she was starting to know all too well, that peaceful tone that could carry on superficial small talk for hours yet disappear in complete silence the second the conversation became of a more personal nature. "Alexis will want to go."

She hated how her stomach tied up in twisted knots at the mention of that name, proud that nothing at least showed up on her face. Why did she always get this feeling? This green monster that she hated so much yet would not leave her alone?

"Oh yeah. Is she your girlfriend?" She asked as casually as she had asked all of her previous questions, feigning ignorance when she already knew the answer to that question. She had already met the girl, so she could not completely pretend not knowing who she was.

"You could say." Was all the answer she received, watching him dick down and pull yet another squirming crying creature. "Will you go as well?"

"Yeah, of course." She shrugged, dropping another creature unto the bucket before it could earn her another bite. One was already enough. Had it not been two hours yet? This task seemed to be taking them all night!

"Are you going to buy more spicy mustard flavored sugar quills?" He mocked her, that arrogant smirk adorning his face underneath he icy gaze of his sky colored eyes.

"Stop mocking that." She half-heartedly glared, getting tired of that. Had he not mocked her for that already? Why repeat it? "That is getting old. Why do you like bringing that up?"

"Because it was the worst thing I've ever tried." He chuckled again, a sound so strangely refreshing that she could not tell how she felt about it.

"You are a strange human being who doesn't even like candy, so that makes you the worst person to judge what tasted good or bad." She muttered between he teeth.

"Hm." Was all the answer she got, but she forced herself to take a deep steadying breath and not lose her patience.

"Why the sudden interest in tomorrow's visit to Hogsmeade?" He spoke just when she had thought silence would wash over them once more.

"Simply trying to make conversation." Ice blue eyes were once again looking at her as if she was the strangest thing he had seen, a look that immediately made her feel uncomfortable, piercing through her yet letting her see nothing swirling in those wintery irises.

"Why?" He questioned her again, as if not really understanding what interest could she have in making conversation with him, and honestly she could not tell why either. It wasn't as if he was fun and nice to talk with.

"It's none of your business." Oh how good those words tasted on her tongue as she recited them right back at him, watching as his lips curved up slightly in another smirk before he turned to look away from her. He would not dare to argue against words he had previously used for his advantage.

"You too are so _friendly_." She could nearly hear the smirk in his voice as he turned around, already looking down and searching through the grass and pretending to no longer be paying any attention to her. Oh, he knew exactly how to bite back at her and make her blood boil, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing that, it was enough to notice that amused victorious gleam in his eyes.

"Agh!" He hissed before she could think back of something to say in return, shaking his left hand wildly in the air as he dropped the creature he had just pulled out, already inspecting his middle finger. The radish-like creature went squirming through the grass, quickly digging itself into the earth and disappearing with a high-pitched cry.

"It hurts when they bite." She warned him – as if he did not know- slightly glad at the creature for biting him just in the appropriate time. He deserved it.

She turned her head to face him, her lips already curving up in a mocking smile, which dropped almost instantly. He was holding his left hand tightly in his right, his knuckles white, and even though she could only see a few droplets of blood coming out of the tiny bite in his finger, his eyes were shut tightly as his face contorted as if in extreme pain, ragged breathing coming out heavily through his nose and gritted teeth. She waited for a second, finding his reaction a little exaggerated and waiting for the pain of the bite to pass. It had hurt when she had gotten bit but certainly not this much?

"Are you ok?" She tentatively took a step forward when the worst of the pain did not seem to be passing. It had only hurt her a couple of seconds. Why was he still holding his arm as if the creature had bitten it off entirely? And yet she could not help the sudden worry that building in her stomach.

Lasgalen did not answer her, not even seeming to have heard her, biting forcefully into his lower lip as his continued to lay tightly shut, seeming to be trying to stifle a groan. In a couple of seconds his whole face had gone deathly pale and she could see tiny beads of sweat accumulating on his forehead. This was not the normal expected from that tiny bite. It could not be. What was wrong?

"Should I get Hagrid?" She asked, starting to panic a little, trying to think on something she could do. He was going to draw blood if he kept biting that hard into his lip.

He shook his head quickly, his right hand flying to grab at her arm before she could go anywhere preventing her from moving. He dropped it a second later, once he seemed to understand that she would not go get Hagrid, only to bring it back to grip his left hand tightly.

"What is it?" She continued to ask him, feeling increasingly useless at his obvious high level of pain. But he merely shook his head, gritting his teeth too hard for him to let out any word through them. He had not yet opened his eyes, his face still crunched up in agony under his tightly knit brow. This was not a normal reaction. It was more than a mere bite. But what was it?

And yet no matter how much she studied him in her panic to try to find any way to be able to help, the more she it became evident that it _was_ the bite. Everything pointed to it, seeming clearly to be the cause of his pain, from the way in which he continued to clutch his hand desperately, opening his eye sonly to inspect his slightly bleeding finger which he did not even dare to touch in order to clean. But it did not make sense. The degree of pain in which he was was not correlational to such a tiny bite. In mere minutes he had gone so pale she feared he would fall over, not matter how steady he seemed on his feet.

She pushed him down by the shoulders to sit on the grass, glad when he did not complain, barely seeming to notice it through his greeted teeth and tense posture, and she dropped herself to sit next to him, trying to think of anything to do to help. His right hand dug fiercely into the grass next to where he sat, fingers nearly pulling out the thin green blades.

She didn't know how long she sat there, her heart racing inside her chest like a caged bird the entire time. It seemed almost an eternity until slowly, ever so slowly she saw his finger's relax, the tight knit on his brow easing as his breathing seemed to return to even deep breaths.

"Are you ok?" She repeated her question, not knowing what else to ask. What had happened?

He nodded his head, almost imperceptibly, blinking his eyes open only to reveal those icy blue irises that remained as guarded and unreadable as the unyielding surface of a frozen ocean. She sighed in relief, letting out a breath she had not known she had been holding.

"I'm not pulling out any more of those _things_." He said lowly, throwing a poisonous glare to the grass around him as if half expecting another of the creatures to suddenly jump at him.

"I think we already collected enough of them." She agreed, nodding her head in the direction to the half-full bucket of squirming and screeching creatures. Those were definitely enough for one night, and she also had lost all desire to keep pulled them out from the ground.

She took a second to carefully study him, not missing how he still kept his left arm safely resting over his lap against his body, his hand trembling lightly. She adverted her gaze quickly, not wanting to be caught staring. Instead, she lowered her eyes at her own finger, where she could see the little cut from the creature had bit her. It was still there, red and a little achy, looking exactly the same as the cut on his finger, but then again hers had hurt only the normal expected amount, like the tiny cut it was.

"Why did it hurt like that?" She asked, her voice nearly a whisper, not flinching as his eyes darkened coldly, a long second of silken stretching uncomfortably through the air.

He shrugged, turning his head to look in another direction, one again pretending to no longer be interested in talking. But it did not fool her. There was something he was not telling her. Not that it was any of her business, she had to remind herself.

"Not as if I truly expect any answer from you." She whispered in return, shaking her head in resignation before pushing herself to stand up, walking to retrieve the bucket from where they had left it.

"It just….hurt." His barely audible voice made her stop in her tracks, turning around to face him once more. He did not look up to meet her eyes, did not even turn his head in her direction, but there was something in his voice that had not been there before, as if suddenly sounding different without the cold regal string to it.

It was her turn to nod her head, not knowing why but suddenly losing all interest in questioning him momentarily. Instead, she carefully picked the forgotten bucket in both of her hands, trying not to look down at the disgusting creatures as the squirmed and tried to climb on top of one another in order to break free. She made her slow way back to where he too was pushing himself to his feet, depositing her charge just as she noticed a large silhouette making its way towards them through the yard. Hagrid. Their two hours were finally over.

Here's chapter 9! I hope you enjoy it! I know the plot develops slowly but all the details are needed for the story!

Thank you so much for your comments to Eryniel Greenleaf, Rose61393, It'sBeenARealSlice and guest!

Guest reviewer (sorry haha you left no name): I know it's taking ages to pick up but because all the details play a part in how the story needs to flow. Legolas will appear again soon, he's also involved in the plot although I won't say how yet!

Love,

Elena


	10. Gossip

The arrival of December brought with it the heavy snows that covered the castle's grounds like a white blanket, and with it came the promise of the quickly approaching Christmas Break. That gave the students something to look forward to in midst of the tests and piles of homework. The castle's long corridors and halls were filled with floating candy canes and all other sorts of candy and treats, which Peeves had quickly turned into weapons to throw at any distracted passing student, laughing and singing merrily as the poor victim fled away running. Some of the older students had even managed to enchant some mistletoe into flying over the students' heads, refusing to go away until said student was finally kissed.

And yet, the arrival of December also meant that the accumulated homework had reached a new level of despair and grumpiness in nearly every single student during the week. She could no longer find solace in the quiet library because it was now constantly full of students trying to manage to finish everything in time. None of the professors seemed to show any sort of mercy or sympathy as they threw more and more work at the already tired and complaining children. They had a full twelve-page essay to complete for Divination, piles of homework to deliver for Flitwick for that Thursday, another essay for McGonagall and the longest most tedious and unnecessary homework from Snape.

Not even the promise of Christmas could seem to cheer her up as she made her way down towards the dungeons for the last two-hour period of Monday afternoon. Potions. And just what she needed: Snape searching for ways to take more unnecessary points from Gryffindor and torture her and her friends for the entire length of the class.

"Eowyn! Come on!" She hurried her friend who seemed too preoccupied and entertained listening to some sort of gossip from a fellow Ravenclaw girl to even listening to her. "We're going to be late!"

"Just a second, Sig!" Her friend did not even turn to look in her direction, ignoring the hand that kept trying to pull her by the arm. Just a second. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of that. For Eowyn a second meant closer to an hour.

"Just leave her behind." Elladan laughed as his slender hand curled over her thin arm, pulling her away from Eowyn and in the direction of the small crowd of gloomy students heading towards the dungeons.

"Did you finish the homework?" Elrohir's voice chimed in her right ear, making her have to turn her head in order to see him. From where had he come from? If she had not known better she would have sworn the twins already knew how to apparate.

"Yes, I did." Sigrid narrowed her eyes at the younger twin, already knowing that he would want to copy it, clearly not having done his. Not that her answers would be all correct. To tell the truth she had not even bothered to check her homework twice this time, deciding to be content on merely having finished it.

"Can I have it?" And there came the question she knew was coming.

"Do yours, Ro!" She chastised him, throwing a glance back only to confirm that Eowyn was indeed still gossiping with whoever that Ravenclaw girl was, not having moving from her spot near one of tall elaborate columns.

"Eowyn!" She called back, laughing lightly at the exasperated glare she received from her friend's blue-grey eyes. Clearly she considered the gossip more important that Snape's wrath if she was late to class. "We're leaving you behind!"

"I'll catch up with you!" Was all she received, her friend waving a hand in frustration at her, as if shooing her away, her eyes already focused on the Ravenclaw girl once more, a smirk Sigrid knew all too well, curving on the corner of her lips. Boy gossip.

"Can I have your homework?" Elrohir pleaded to her right, just as they descended another pair of wide stone steps. There were no longer windows piercing through the heavy walls, and the humid cold air of the underground portions of the castle was already clinging to her body like trapping arms.

"No!" She laughed at him, throwing him a look that let him know her answer was the obvious one. "Do yours!"

"I did mine." Elladan spoke, hiding a mocking grin as his face adopted an expression of feigned superiority as he teased his identical copy.

"Then give me yours!" Elrohir nearly launched at him, throwing his arms in an effort to grab Elladan's school bag from him. The elder twin, however, seemed to have anticipated the reaction, moving out of the way just in time as the two of them collided in an oddly amusing fight for the bag – Elladan holding onto it a little too protectively.

"Come on, Dan, share!" Elrohir tried to reason with his brother, but the later only laughed at him, once again moving the bag out of his brother's reach at the very last possible second.

"I'm not sharing with you." The elder twin narrowed his eyes, smacking his twin's hand away. They were moving around so much in their bickering and fighting that they had somehow managed to bump into every single fourth-year Gryffindor and Slytherin making their peaceful way down to the dungeons. If they did not stop she was sure someone would lose their patience and hit them.

" _Accio Homework!"_ Elorhir muttered as he flicked his wand, grasping the piece of parchment that flew out of his brother's bag in a quick move, before the older of the twins could react.

"Hey!" Came the expected reaction, and she simply shook her head, deciding on momentarily ignoring the two of them as she continued her way down the long labyrinth of dungeons and towards the horrid plain wooden door of Snape's classroom.

The door lay wide open as the student slowly dragged their feet inside the dimly lit room, wrinkling their noses at the putrid smell that was left over from whatever potion the previous class had been asked to brew. As is was customary, the Gryffindors made sure to take the seats at the back of the classroom, and as far away from Snape's prying eyes as possible, a low chatter filling over the space in Snape's absence.

She made her way to her usual table, dropping her books carelessly on the stained surface and begrudgingly pulling out all the items she assumed would be needing for the day's lesson. She could hear the twins bickering and arguing as they too entered the room, not quieting as they took the table directly to her right, as they always did. It seemed that Elladan had somehow managed to get his homework back from his brother's hands. She placed one of her books on the seat next to hers, saving it for Eowyn – even though she knew nobody would take it anyway- as her eyes threw another glance at the open door behind her back. Her friend was still nowhere to be seen, and now Sigrid was sure she would most definitely be late.

Still she could not control her eyes from flickering to the far corner at the front of the room where he usually sat, knowing beforehand that it would be empty. And it was empty. Again. Thranduil Lasgalen had not shown up to class for the past two weeks, and she had not seen him once since that night pulling horrid creatures from the ground under Hagrid's instructions. She was even starting to believe that he was not even at the castle, not having shown up even for any of the meals at the Great Hall. Still she did not dare bring up her curiosity to any of her friends, not wanting to admit that she even noticed whether or not the Slytherin seeker attended class or not. It was none of her business.

The peaceful chatter around the room had gotten louder as more and more of the students entered its gloomy insides. The shelves were full to the brim of scary and strange looking flasks of all different sizes, some glowing eerily in their bottles, making her have to turn away from them and remind herself not to look at them. She hated them. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Elrohir scribbling quickly in a piece of parchment, Elladan's homework lying neatly by his side. So it seemed that the elder twin had agreed to share his homework after all.

She was startled out of her thoughts as a hand move the book she had placed on the seat next to hers, placing it heavily on the table. She turned her head, expecting to see her friend only to blink a couple of times in surprise as she noticed that it was not Eowyn the one taking the seat directly to her right. His long silvery hair fell perfectly down his back, contrasting sharply with his black school robes lined in deep Slytherin emerald. He had not even glanced in her direction, hands safely inside his school robes' pockets as his eyes stared steadily at the front.

Feeling her heart race in nerves inside her chest she turned to glance in the twins' direction, only to find them staring at Lasgalen with silver eyes equally as puzzled as she found herself. She managed to catch Elladan's eyes, the elder twin throwing her a questioning look as he nodded his head in Lasgalen's direction. She quickly shrugged in return, shaking her head almost imperceptibly in response to let the twins know that she too had no idea what was the Slytherin seeker doing sitting next to her instead of his usual spot with his fellow Slytherins. It made her tense, that presence next to her that she could never anticipate whether or not would be clam or hostile.

She caught sight of Eowyn rushing inside the room just barely ahead of Snape, and was able to meet her friend's eyes just in time as the greasy haired wizard closed the dungeon door tightly. Her friend's mild grey eyes were looking in her direction as confused as the twins' were, her mouth mouthing to her a muted 'what's happening?'. She once again shrugged, aware of Lasgalen's presence next to her, ice blue eyes still focused solely at the front, as if she was not even there.

Throwing the Slytherin seeker one last puzzled glance, Eowyn chose to sit in the only available seat left at the back of the classroom, next to Eddelina Costa- a quiet Gryffindor girl from their class. At least she did not have to sit next to one of the Slytherins, and she didn't know whether or not to curse her friend for arriving so late to class. The gossip better had been a good one.

"Open your books to Chapter 7." Snape's cold voice dragged languidly as he instructed from the front of the classroom, his black robes swirling eerily around him and making him look like an overgrown bat.

A noise of books being slowly pulled out of bags and dropped carelessly over tables accompanied her as she slowly flipped the pages to find the intended chapter. She did not even bother to read the title, already skimming through the list of ingredients they would require for the class, trying her best to tune out Snape's voice from the front. It looked like a complicated potion.

She peeked next to her, only find Thranduil Lasgalen still looking directly at the front, his copy of _Potion Making Level Four_ open neatly on the table in front of him. What was he playing at? Why forgo his usual seat? Where had he been for two weeks?

"What are you doing?" She muttered under her breath, ice blue eyes turning to look in her direction for a short second before turning back to glance at the front.

"Attending class." He whispered in return, that cold distant voice that always managed to put an end to her patience.

She took a long look at him, not caring anymore if she was caught staring, ignoring as Snape continued to give instructions on the potion they were about to brew. By the looks of his short answer Lasgalen did not seem in a very inviting mood – not that he ever was. For a second she could not tell if it was due to the greenish dim light that filtered through the cold dungeon or if her eyes were playing her tricks but his skin looked even paler than usual, his cheekbones standing out more harshly on his face. He looked tired, faint purple shadows clinging underneath his slightly sunken eyes. What was wrong with him?

Shaking her head lightly, she focused her eyes back down on the pages of her book, reading the long list of ingredients she would require for the lesson. All around her students were already starting a fire under their cauldrons, some even starting to cut away something that was leaving a putrid metallic smell in the stiff air. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Eddelina had somehow managed burst her whole cauldron into flames, leaving Eowyn to yell in shock as the two Gryffindor girls attempted to quickly put the flames away.

Igniting the fire and making the water boil to the appropriate initial temperature seemed to be about the only easy thing for this potion, and sooner than she had expected Sigrid too found herself cursing inwardly as she tried to get her ingredients to cooperate. Her left hand flew widely over the dusty fable, trying hard to pin down the tiny horned beetle as her right hand attempted to squeeze out the juice from its back with the flat side of her knife. The cursed little creature would not stop squirming! Aha! Finally! Letting out a please sighed, she squeezed the yellow thick juice, wrinkling her nose at the smell, into her suspiciously looking potion. The book specified that it should be a clear transparent color, and hers was very much an opaque purplish thick mass. What was she doing wrong?

She spared a glance next to her, her stomach still tied uncomfortably at that heavy presence sitting jus to her right, only to find out that Lasgalen seemed to be having more trouble with his potion than she was. The Slytherin seeker seemed to be struggling with holding the beetle steady with his left hand, wincing almost imperceptibly every time the insect squirmed. Her eyes dropped down to his hand, for the first time noticing that there were white linen bandages covering his entire left hand and disappearing underneath the wide sleeve of his black school robes.

"What happened to your hand?" She asked, keeping her voice low as to not be overheard. Not that any other student was paying attention to what they said, all of them too preoccupied with their own potions.

Icy eyes burning like blue fires glared in her direction, cold and impenetrable, not answering her question as he merely threw the entire beetle inside his cauldron, giving up on attempting to squeeze it the proper way. Instead, he started to try and slice his ginger roots as the instructions specified, using only his right hand this time, his left fingers seeming too shaky to hold the roots steady.

She did not know why she was doing it, making no sense inside her mind, and yet she found herself sliding her own perfectly sliced ginger roots in his direction over the table, the move unnoticed by everyone else in the dungeons. Ice blue eyes looked at her for a second, ever as unreadable and hard before he accepted he roots, leaving her to attempt to slice his mangled ones to add them to her potion. Why was she helping him with his potion? Why was she helping him at all? And yet she knew that he would have never been able to properly slice the roots using only one hand. But what was wrong with his left hand?

And then it hit her, so obvious that she almost wanted to hit herself mentally for not thinking about it before. Of course.

"What makes you so sure that you can use me as your shield?" She snapped at him lowly, throwing his mangled roots into her cauldron and watching as the potion bubbled grossly in return, turning from purple to black.

His ice blue eyes did not turn up to meet hers, continuing to stare at his own bubbling potion, not seeming interested at all in whether he got the potion right or not that class. But of course. She should have noticed it earlier. He had sat strategically next to her in class, away from his fellow Slytherin friends, where nobody in the dungeons but her would be able to notice the bandages in his left hand or how it trembled and hurt him to move it. It was as if he had already known she would help him or at least remain quiet about it the whole class, and it enraged her.

"If you were going to gossip about me you would have already done so. Which makes me believe I can trust you not to tell." He shrugged as he spoke, his right hand absently stirring his potion. And she knew he was talking about everything she had already witnessed, finding him first in the hospital wing and then frightened beyond anything in the hallways at night, and then the alarming level of pain he had been in during detention with Hagrid once the creature had bit his finger. She had not shared any of those things with any of her friends.

"What makes you so sure?" She contradicted him, hating how he had seemed to read her so easily and at the same time knowing that she would not tell. But why was she so intent in keeping whatever secret it was he carried? Why had she not been able to tell any of friends about his strange behavior? And yet, it felt wrong to her, it felt wrong to talk to anyone about seeing him in a state most people would never wish to be seen. Something was wrong with him. It was so very clear, and yet she still did not know what it was.

"You will not tell." He repeated again in a casual tone, taking out a pair of bat wings from a crystal flask and placing them neatly over the table by his book. And once again he was right, even though she wanted nothing more than to contradict him once more. She would not tell.

"Why were you not in class for the last two weeks?" She pressed, once again discretely helping him shred his bat wings before sliding them in his direction for him to add to his horridly smelling potion. And once again his cold glacier eyes turned in her direction, not letting her get even a glimpse of whatever thoughts where swirling underneath those frozen irises.

"Mind your own things." She had already expected that same cold reply from him, and yet it did not serve to lessen the anger she felt as his ever dismissive tone.

"Fine." She huffed, glaring at him fiercely. "Then I guess you will not be needing my class notes for the two weeks you missed."

"Come on." He sighed, eyes strangely pleading her through his clearly annoyed expression. She knew he needed the notes.

"Were you even in the castle for the past two weeks?" She changed the phrasing of her question, hating how he would always expect her to help him, taking her for granted as his shield.

"No." His eyes did not meet hers, even though is face remained that perfectly composed marble statue, starting deeply into his potion with a bitter expression. And yet, part of her had already known that answer, had already suspected it. It had been so clear after snooping on his student file at Dumbledore's office. Still, it did not make it easier to hear. Even if he had not specified as to where he had been, oblivious to him she already knew it: St. Mungo's. The question was why? "Could I still have your notes?"

"Yes." She agreed in a low flat tone, dropping her eyes to make sure she did not cut her fingers as she shredded her own set of bat wings.

"Thanks." He nodded his head, his voice still dripping ice, not even sparing a second glance at her.

"And stop using me to hide whatever it is you are hiding." She snapped once more in a whispered tone, ire boiling inside of her as one of his perfect eyebrows arched high on his forehead.

"Don't worry, Bowman. It is not my intention to ever sit by you again in class." He muttered in return through partially gritted teeth, absently turning over a page in his book.

Thankfully for her, the enchanted clock on the wall picked that precise moment to announce the end of the lesson, a loud cluttering sound echoing through the dungeon as the students started to pick up their stuff in a hurry, eager to leave this dimly lit clogging space. She snapped her book closed, quickly throwing the ingredients she had pulled out and throwing them back inside her backpack.

"Tomorrow after class at the library?" His velvet lined voice whispered to her as she watched him throwing his book onto his school bag as well, confirming a place and time for her to share her notes with him once more. She noticed that he had successfully hidden his left hand in the pockets of his robes, once again looking as if there was nothing remotely wrong with him, even though he still looked paler than usual.

"Yes." She agreed once more. Better get that done sooner than having to worry about meeting with him later that week.

"And I am not your safety blanket." She hissed, trying to make it clear to him, pulling her heavy bag over her right shoulder. "Stop using me as a shield."

"You're not my shield, Bowman." He hissed in return, his voice oddly colder than she remembered it, seeming to make the temperature in the already chilly dungeons drop as the musical sound cut harshly through the air. Once again his ice blue eyes were sharp, unreadable, ice cold and unforgiving, matching the same frozen mesmerizing beauty of his stone face. "But I thought you could a friend."

With that he walked past her, once again his cold perfectly calmed self as he merged his way through the mass of Slytherins, leaving her standing by the table, his harsh words still playing through her mind.

"What's the matter with Lasgalen? Why did he sit next to you?" Elrohir reached her side, his twin following closely behind as they made their way out of the dungeons and towards higher levels of the castle.

"I don't know." She shrugged, managing to sound as puzzled as the twins looked next to her. And there it was again: she was hiding whatever secret he kept. Why would she just not tell her friends that he had obviously not been well in class? And yet, she did not do it.

"Did he say anything to you?" Elladan questioned this time, only seeming half-interested in the gossip.

"No. He just minded his own potion." She lied once more, shaking her head slightly. What was wrong with her?

"Perhaps he was simply too embarrassed to sit with his fellow Slytherins." Eowyn's voice sounded a little too happy about what she was saying as she spoke, her grey-blue eyes holding that knowing sparkle that let Sigrid immediately know her friend once again had the latest gossip.

"Embarrassed?" She asked, unable to pretend not to be interested in talking about Lasgalen anymore. "Why?"

Eowyn's llips curved up in that perfect smile that seemed all too pleased with herself, her arm lacing around Sigrid's and pulling her away along the corridor, leaving the twins complaining behind.

"Eowyn!" She could hear Elrohir calling in annoyance, even though his mischievous gleam remained fixed on his face. "We want to hear too!"

"I will tell you later!" Her friend waved her hand over her shoulder, ignoring the twins' protests behind them as she nearly dragged Sigrid through the corridors. The latter shook her head, unable to hold back a chuckle at her friend's actions. Although Eowyn loved to be kept to date with the latest gossip, her friend still did not like to spread them around, always sharing them only with Sigrid and every once in a while with the twins. She had always found it so amusing, her friend loving to know the gossip yet not enjoying gossiping in return.

"What is it?" Sigrid finally asked, knowing that the twins were already a safe distance behind. "What did you hear?"

"You will not believe what I saw this morning in the Hospital Wing-

"You were in the Hospital Wing?" Sigrid had to interrupt her friend in order to be able to catch up. When had this happened?

"Yes. Broken nose during Flying Lessons." Eowyn picked up again, seeming to not enjoy the interruption, lowering her voice to a whisper so low that Sigrid had to lean in in order to be able to hear. "Oropher Lasgalen was there this morning. In Hogwarts!"

"In the castle?" She found herself asking as they reached the Gryffindor portrait hole, pronouncing the password to the Fat Lady in a hurry before the two of them were climbing through the hole and claiming a seat in a quiet corner of the Common Room. "Doing what?"

"He was arguing heavily with Dumbledore, I only heard parts of the conversation, but he was complaining about the detention Thranduil had received. He was furious, claiming the detention not suitable for his son, can you imagine?" She could fear the anger in Eowyn's voice as she whispered her words in a rush, grey-blue eyes gleaming furiously at the injustice of the situation she was narrating. "Complaining to Dumbledore, _Dumbledore_ , about giving his son an _unsuitable_ detention?! As if his sons don't ever merit to be punished, because apparently he thinks they are royalty and can behave as they please in school, while detention is for us commoners!"

"Unsuitable? How?" She asked in a hushed tone, trying to ignore her friend's angry ranting, too curious to know more. Thranduil Lasgalen had not been in the castle since the detention they had together two weeks ago, which meant that the detention his father was complaining about had to be that one.

"I don't know!" Eowyn shrugged her delicate shoulders, making her golden waves of hair fall messily behind her back. "He was just angry, whispering to Dumbledore, saying that the detention had been too harsh and that he would not have his son being put in danger. As if Dumbledore would _ever_ endanger any student! Let alone during detention here, which are always a boring tedious task! And just because they have more gold than Gringotts can even handle, Dumbledore apologized! Yes. _He apologized_! It's absolutely not fair! Allowing Oropher Lasgalen to come in here and tell Dumbledore that his son should receive only the mildest of detentions or not be punished at all!"

Eowyn was complaining non-stop now, but Sigrid had suddenly stopped listening to her friend's raging whispers, holding information that her friend yet ignored. Of course to Eowyn it sounded unfair. To the whole school it would sound unfair, only matching the other rumors that surrounded the older Lasgalen brother and how Dumbledore seemed to always prefer the brothers because they had a powerful influential father. And yet for the first time the rumors did not seem right to her. They were not right at all. They were all wrong, had everything wrong. She had seen too much not to notice- even though she should have not seen as much.

Her warm brown eyes lowered to fix on her right hand's index finger, falling on the tiny nearly unnoticeable little pink line left from where the creature near the lake had bit her during detention. And it was not hard to put together the pieces of the puzzle, not when she nearly had them all. Lasgalen had been in an absurd amount of pain at that little bite on his left hand. He had barely said anything after that, still pale and shaky once they returned to the castle, and then he had disappeared for two whole weeks, returning today with the same hand heavily bandaged and his father complaining to Dumbledore. But how could that be? How could such a tiny bite of a creature that was not even poisonous send the older Lasgalen brother for two weeks to St. Mungos? She knew that's where he had been. That's where he was every time he skipped class for so long, she had seen it in his medical records in Dumbledore's office. Something was definitely wrong with him. That much she had figured out. And yet that was only one tiny corner of the puzzle…there were so many pieces she was still missing...

Here's the next chapter! Let me know what you think!

And thank you so much again for your comments to: Amsim, VanyaNoldo22, Eryniel Greenleaf, and Rose61393. Thank you so much for letting mw know your thoughts on the chapter! It really means a lot to me.

Love,

Elena


	11. Fly

The following morning, she and Eowyn waited for the twins in the emptying Common Room before all four of them went down to breakfast. The snow that had fallen the night before now lay accumulated in cotton-like patches on the many windowsills they passed, the crystals frosted due to the cold wind blowing outside. A crowd of students had formed at the entrance of the Great Hall, the students at the back jumping and rising to the tips of their toes to try and get a better look at the small enchanted bulletin board, muttering loudly among each other.

"What is that about?" Elladan said as they reached the ample sets of doors, his silver eyes looking directly at Eowyn, as if he expected her to know. Ewoyn only shrugged in return, even though her face gleamed with new-found curiosity, leading their way towards the long Gryffindor table.

Large plates and trays were filled with an assortment of eggs, bacon, ham, fresh toasts and many other things nearly overflowing from them, making her mouth water and her stomach churn. Sigrid was the first one to sit down, taking a toast from the closest tray and biting into it before she could even place it on her plate.

"Hey, you!" She hard Elrohir call out while he sat down next to her, glancing at a scrawny looking first year Gryffindor passing by, who nearly jumped in surprise at the unexpected address.

"Me?" The small boy stuttered, hazel eyes going wide as he pointed to himself with a pale shaky finger, his too large front teeth biting at his lower lip. The boy looked positively a strange in between scared and in awe at being addressed by one of the twins.

"Yes, you." Elrohir breathed out almost exasperatedly, seeming too content with the look the poor eleven-year-old was throwing him. And they were only fourth-years, she certainly did not want to see how much the twins would enjoy it once they were in their seventh year. "What's on the bulletin board everyone is looking at?"

"Oh, that." The boy visibly deflated with relief, and Sigrid could not contain a chuckle as she understood that the boy had most probably half expected the twins to be about to prank him. "It just says the date for this year's Yule Ball. It's a shame us first years aren't allowed to attend yet."

"Well, too bad for you." Elrohir commented quickly, nearly interrupting the first-year boy who merely looked down at the floor and hurried away before anything else could be asked to him.

Sigrid smacked Elrohir hard in the shoulder, throwing a deathly glare at his twin who was laughing loudly nearby. "Don't be mean to him!"

"He already ran away." Elladan was the one to answer in between his chuckles. "It's not our fault he was so scared."

"Yule Ball?" Eowyn chimed in as she rested her pointy chin on her hand over the table, her grey-blue eyes sparkling almost too excitedly. "So there's one this year! There hasn't been one since our first year."

"Well, _someone_ is excited about going." Elrohir smirked, eyeing Eowyn with a look that she knew could only mean she was about to be teased mercilessly. "Have a date already?"

All around them Sigrid could hear students huddling up in groups and whispering vigorously among themselves at the four long tables. Not far to her left, a group of Ravenclaw girls were giggling behind their hands in a way Sigrid found utterly annoying and unnecessary. Still, she herself could not hold back a spark of anticipation at the prospect of the grand Christmas ball, for it seemed that now that they were fourth years they would finally be allowed to attend. And then Elrohir had mentioned the issue of dates and her stomach had tied in tight knots, making her drop her half-eaten toast, no longer too hungry.

"No, I don't. Nobody has one yet!" Eowyn bit back at the younger twin, whose eyes only gleamed all the brighter. "And if I did I wouldn't tell _you_."

"Scared nobody will ask you?" Elrohir replied, nearly swallowing a fried egg whole as he spoke, only receiving a hit from Eowyn in return.

Oh, Sigrid was. She dropped her eyes to her own plate for a second, trying not to think on what Elrohir had just said. What if nobody asked _her_? That would be entirely too humiliating. No, she would not think of that yet.

"Nobody will ask you with that _beautiful_ temper of yours!" Elrohir muttered as he rubbed his arms where Eowyn had hit him presumably a little too hard.

"Oh, I know who _you_ are _dying_ to ask, Ro." Sigrid could barely contain a laugh as Elladans' silver eyes gleamed mischievously at his twin from across the table, nearly chocking on her pumpkin juice.

"She's here." Eowyn whispered in an excited voice, having turned around and quickly scanned the Ravenclaw table with those eyes of hers who never seemed to miss anything. "Why not ask her now?"

"you can't be serious?" Elrohir looked alarmed under the taunting gazes his twin and friend were throwing him, a second away from scurrying out of the Great Hall and hiding away in the Common Room.

"Are you scared she'll say no?" She could not contain herself from teasing Elrohir as well, only managing for the younger twin to glare fiercely at her under the laughter of his twin.

"She won't be able to say no to me." He defended himself, even though he did not look as confident as he tried to sound, only making her shake her head lightly.

"Then ask her now, if you are so sure." Eowyn nudged him with her elbow, her mild grey eyes turned back to glance again at the long Ravenclaw table where minutes before Sigrid had caught sight of Sofina Wyne. The petite blue-eyes girl sat talking with a bunch of other girls, her shoulder long blond hair as usual tied up in a tight perfect ponytail.

"Are you mad?!" Elrohir was looking at Eowyn as if she had suddenly grown a third head, the egg that had been sitting on his fork dropping to his plate without him even noticing. "She's with her girl friends!"

Sigrid shook her head, fighting back a laugh as her brown eyes focused once more on the plate before her, not really listening as the twins continued to argue. Her eyes almost imperceptibly traveled behind her to glance at the long Slytherin table, not knowing from where her curiosity came from and yet not able to stop herself. Once again, she was disappointed. She found the younger Lasgalen sitting next to one corner, talking to a group of young Slytherin boys his age, large blue eyes, so similar yet so drastically different from that of his elder brother, gleaming in echo to his warm smile. The elder Lasgalen was once again nowhere to be seen.

Minutes later she found herself following the twins and Eowyn to the suffocating Divination classroom- something that resembled more of an enlarged attic really- sulking and complaining as they were once again instructed to read the future into their teacups. Why had she even continued taking Divination? She hated the subject. Everything about it seemed absurd. And yet the quiet chatter and whispers about the coming Yule Ball did not stop during the entire class, nor during the long period of Transfiguration that followed- where McGonagall kept throwing an exasperated glare at any student she caught whispering in her class, managing for Eddelina Costa to accidentally set her book into flames because she had been too distracted gossiping with Saturna Blackbourn to pay much attention to the instructions given. Even during Herbology, Felicia Wills, a tall brunette Hufflepuff– one of the prettiest girls in Hogwarts according to the twins, and one of the nicest, according to Sigrid- managed to get detention from Professor Sprout, her own Head of House, for not being able to remain quiet and pay attention during the lesson.

Luckily the excited chatter and whispers that filled the corridors and classrooms in the castle seemed to at least dim down a little as classes ended and the hungry, tired students made their slow march towards the Great Hall for dinner. Not that Sigrid had any interest in joining their friends where she knew conversation would once again trail around the Yule Ball, which they had learned was still nearly three weeks away.

And yet, her stomach once again tied into an uncomfortable mangle of knots, dreading and at the same time anticipating her meeting at the library. She had not caught a glimpse of the elder Lasgalen all day, not even during lunch time at the Great Hall. Perhaps there was a chance he would forget their meeting and not show up at the library? Part of her whished for that to be the case, and yet, oddly enough, part of her felt disappointed at the possibility. She was only glad that Eowyn seemed to have forgotten all about the Slytherin Seeker that day, no longer complaining about how unfair it was for his father to argue with Dumbledore about making his son attend detention.

"You are going to the library, I assume?" Eowyn said to her as they made their way back into the castle from Care of Magical Creatures. Sigrid had to admit that Hagrid was a good teacher, and yet she could not understand how _anyone_ could call giant scorpions whose horns exploded in electric shocks and fire when touched _'cute'_. At least Eowyn's disinterested voice indicated that her friend would not give up much of a fight today.

"Yeah." She shrugged, trying to sound casual and ignore the knot tying her stomach painfully. "We have a lot to read for Charms, in case you have forgotten."

"I haven't forgotten." Eowyn muttered with a sour expression on her face, as if being reminded of homework was already ruining her appetite, and Sigrid immediately regrettied the lie she had chosen. "I'll have to do that tomorrow before class."

"See you later at the Common Room?" Sigrid called back as she started to make her way through the thick crowd of third years descending from the Divination tower, who were flocking the enormous entrance hall.

"Yeah, sure!" Eowyn waved at her, jogging a couple of steps to catch up with the twins, who were already making it through the Great Hall's large open doors.

Just as she had expected the library was nearly empty a she pushed the thick wooden door open, Madam Pince peeking over one of the shelves at her before continuing sorting through heavy tomes. It was comfortably quiet in the large darkened room, free of the many low whispers that coated it during the day, where students worked frantically to get their assignments done in time.

He was already there. She swallowed once, trying in vain to keep her nerves under control as she purposely walked in his direction. He was sitting at the same table he had picked last time she had shared her notes with him, farthest from the bight comforting fire and instead underneath a long mullioned window. He had not looked up as she approached, his icy blue eyes focused on a thick open book lying at the table in front of him, his long silvery hair falling like moonlight over his perfectly muscled shoulders.

"Hi." She whispered as she dropped her bag carelessly on the floor next to her, pulling back the chair right in front of him. For once she decided that fighting again over his table choice was not worth it, not sure as to why he liked that window so much. The view was one of the poorest ones in the entire castle.

His eyes looked up to meet hers, cold blue irises that she was sure could turn anything into ice, always as expressionless as his face, his hands slowly closing the large book he had been reading. ' _The Wizard's Guide to Flesh-Eating Plants and Vines'_ read on the pristine looking cover as he casted it aside in a slow elegant move.

"Herbology assignment?" She asked him shortly, nodding her head in the direction of the discarded book. If that was what was in store for her during her sixth year she was really starting to reconsidered ever wanting to pass her Herbology O.W.L. next year. She did not look forward to anything that had the word _Flesh-Eating_ on it. 

"Yes." He said, throwing the book a reproachful look, as it had somehow been rude to him, one of his perfect eyebrows arched at her. "Due Wednesday."

"I didn't know you were taking Herbology." She murmured, somehow not able to imagine his tall regal figure down in the Greenhouses with Professor Sprout. The Hufflepuff Head of House must barely reach his elbow in height.

"Why would you know? You have never asked." His velvet lined voice was once again cold yet not hostile, merely disinterested, unreadable.

"What other classes are you taking?" She found herself asking before she could stop herself, watching as that perfect eyebrow rose high on his forehead again, piercing eyes studying her.

"Anyway-" She started with a slight shake of her head when she thought he would not answer her question, and was surprised into silence when his low peaceful voice echoed through the space with its usual calmed tone.

"Charms, Transfigurations, Arithmancy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions." She stared at him as he spoke, for a second slightly taken aback by the fact that he had replied at all. And yet, his face was still as expressionless as ever, a perfect heavenly statue carved in cold hard marble.

"Er – Right." She muttered quickly, hating that she could not find anything else to say as she used that precise moment to dig her hands into her school bag and pull out her worn and battered potions notebook. All the while she could feel the piercing weight of those icy irises staring silently at her, making her incredibly uncomfortable.

"This-" She said pointing at the beginning of a page near the middle of her notebook "-Is what you missed."

He nodded his head, his eyes looking amusedly at the page she had indicated, a smirk she despised so much curving on his lips as he took in her messy handwriting and the many crossed-out words in the page.

"You make many spelling mistakes, I can see. It's barely readable." His voice mirrored his smirk as he spoke in that tone that made anger boil through her veins.

"I make those on purpose just to make your task of copying them harder." She smirked in return, the words out of her mouth before she could realize it, yet she felt proud for them. If he wanted to insult her and outsmart her with his witty comments, she could play along.

And yet, to her utmost surprise, he laughed. A single chuckle left his mouth, the sound once again reminding her oddly of silver bells, for a second breaking through his ice cold façade before he was once again that perfect stone statue. "Of course you do."

She lowered her eyes to her own work, once again oddly at a loss of what to say, merely throwing him a half-hearted glare. Instead she picked up her quill, watching him as he did the same, starting to copy her notes in his neat perfect calligraphy on a blank piece of parchment. And it was then that she noticed. His left hand was no longer bandaged, not even showing signs that it had ever been, and had she not seen it with her own eyes the previous day at their potions lessons, she would have never believed it had ever been hurting him.

The skin looked as flawless as it always did, not a single mark or scar or anything present on it, as he used both of his hands with equal ease. She also noticed that he no longer looked as tired as he had the previous day, his skin his usual pale color, yet no longer looking unhealthy, the shadows under his eyes gone. She wanted to ask him about it, wanted to ask what it was that happened to him, and yet decided against it. For the moment, she would not ask.

"You _do_ make so many mistakes." He muttered once again amusedly as he shook his handsome head, as if he found it funny to provoke her, eyes narrowing as if trying to decipher something in her notes.

"Well, Snape speaks fast." She defended herself as she glared at him once more, knowing that it was a blunt lie. Nobody spoke slower or dragged words more than Snape. And yet she was slightly thankful that he only chose to raise a perfect eyebrow at her once more instead of commenting on it.

"Did you hear about the Yule Ball?" He changed the topic of the conversation, eyes once again not looking up at her as his face remained as disinterested in the topic as his voice. And yet she could not understand why his sudden interest in small talk once again.

"Of course I did." She muttered, knowing now for sure that he must have taken it as a personal goal to annoy and torture her to no end. "Everyone did"

"Are you going?" He asked again, and she once more felt perplexed by his words, even though he still sounded as disinterested in the Ball as before.

"why do you care?" Her words came out a little harsher than she had expected them, and yet she swore she saw that familiar smirk gleaming concealed in his glacier eyes, as if he had been expecting that same answer. "It's not as if we are friends."

"Oh, we are _not_ friends." He replied in that same humored tone that always managed to make her want to glower at him fiercely, still sitting tall and royally right in front of her. "You have made that very clear."

"Good." She snapped back, hating how she could feel those stunning ice colored eyes piercing through her as if he could read each and every single one of her thoughts. "And, no. I am not going to the Yule Ball."

What? From where had that come from? And yet her voice had sounded so sure of herself that she was almost proud she had not let it slip that it was a clear big lie. Ice blue eyes lifted in her direction, all the weight of them scrutinizing her for a long moment, silent, expressionless. And then, his lips curved up, that smirk returning to his face as his eyes gleamed almost too brightly at her, too full of enjoyment.

"You have no one to go with." He spoke each word almost as a victorious whisper, as though just realizing them as they left his mouth, seeming to have known he had dotted right on target. She could nearly feel the laughter in his voice, and for a second she was sure she hated him as much as the twins and Eowyn did, and she could understand now why.

"That is not the case!" She nearly snarled at him, who immediately raised both of his hands defensively in the air, in a gesture of peace.

"Really?" He asked, clearly not seeming to believe her, that eyebrow that she wanted to snatch out of his face once again arched at her. "Who are you going with, then?"

"I said that I am _not_ going." She clarified, stressing each and every single syllable, wondering if she should not just snatch her notebook from in front of him and storm out of the library.

" _You_ really ought to socialize more, Bowman." He whispered, his voice that regal tone that she was sure younger students would gape at, his eyes not looking up from his piece of parchment where his exquisite expensive-looking quill danced. "You are always so bitter."

" _You_ are telling _me_ about _socializing_?" She could not hold back an incredulous laugh from leaving her lips, earning a fierce glare from Madam Pince that forced her to lower her tone before continuing. " _You_. Who barely have any friends at all!"

"At least I have someone to go to the Yule Ball with." He replied, his voice always that perfectly calmed, perfectly gentle tone, and she didn't understand why her stomach sunk so deeply as it did when she understood that of course he would be taking his girlfriend to the Ball. She could already picture her, her slim perfect figure in the probably the most beautiful and expensive dress in the Ball, twirling from his arm. And still, why did she care about it? He was infuriating! Had just mocked her to no end!

"Guess she must be the _luckiest_ girl in Hogwarts, to get to go to the Ball with such _wonderful_ company as _you._ " She bit back, feeling rage poisoning her veins with every word, a pang of guilt forming in her stomach as she thought that perhaps in her ire she was being too harsh, but he did not look offended at all by her words, merely once again looking entertained.

"Get up." He commanded suddenly, eyes looking slightly bored as he rose to his feet, throwing his quill and parchments hastily in to his bag.

"What?" Was all that left her mouth, suddenly stunned as he too packed her books into her own bag, her previous rage suddenly vanished to be replaced by utter confusion.

"Get up." He repeated in that same commanding voice, icy eyes glancing at her as she immediately rose to her feet, not knowing why the mere tone of his voice made her instantly obey. Was he angry with her? Oh, she had definitely done it this time. He must be furious at her words. And yet his voice had not sounded angered at all.

"Follow me." Was all he added, his feet already walking out of the candle-lit library on long strides, making her have to run to be able to catch up. He has rushing through the empty corridors of the castle, not even seeming to pay much attention as he expertly turned left, then right, then left again, then down a wide set of stone steps, as if he knew the way all too well.

"Where are we going?" She whispered as she followed his silvery head down another large staircase, having the feeling that they were headed towards the castle's dungeons, her heart half-racing in her chest at the prospect of a professor catching them walking through the corridors at night. It was not yet after hours, so they would not be in trouble, and yet she could not help but worry about it.

"To have fun." He replied without so much as turning to glance in her direction, taking left on another wide corridor that this time held no windows. Oh, yes, they were definitely near the dungeons now, she could feel the air getting thicker and humid as they walked.

"Fun?" She questioned, not understanding what he was saying, or where they were headed.

"Yes, Bowman, _fun_. Have you _ever_ heard of _that_?" He turned to face her briefly as he walked in a quick pace, icy blue eyes once again smirking at her perplexed expression. "You are in _desperate need_ of having some fun without feeling the need to be calculating and wary and cautious about everything. You get angry too easily."

"I do not get angr-" She stared to hiss in return, only to fall silent as his eyes turned to glare at her with a look that said 'see?'. Still she wanted to tell him that he was the one who was always cautious and hostile and everything else, not her.

He suddenly stopped, making her nearly run into his back in surprise, having to catch herself just in time. For a second she was once again confused as she found him staring at a blank stone wall in a dead-ended corridor. Even the air smelled of water down here, the grim greenish light bouncing beautifully over the emerald lining of his Slytherin school robes.

"Wait here." He instructed her, once again in that velvet coated calmed voice that left no hint as to what was going through his mind. "Stand where you will not be seen."

He nodded to the corner they had just turned, and she didn't know why she immediately obeyed, walking to hide behind the corner and next to a different corridor. She could barely see him, his tall elegant figure standing right in front of the stone wall. He whispered something, the words too low for her to hear and yet she could barely stifle a gasp as the stone wall suddenly slid open, revealing a narrow passage through which he slipped through. Her heart raced inside her chest, wondering at what would Eowyn or the twins say if they knew she was seeing the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. Not that she would ever remember the way down here anyway.

Only seconds later she heard the stone wall open again, the grinding sound making her feel as if the whole castle was shaking. He came out of the narrow opening, his figure impossible to miss with his long silvery hair and tall regal stance, walking quickly in her direction. She jumped out of her hiding spot, wary, looking at him for a moment before her eyes fell on the item he held firmly with his right hand.

"No." Her eyes widened, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest as a pang of panic swept over her body at the sight of the broomstick he carried. It looked expensive, definitely the newest fastest model available by the looks of its elegant polished wood, even though she didn't know much about broomsticks to be able to tell. "No way."

"Come on." He signaled with a hand for her to follow, walking past her and rushing through the corridors nearly the same way they had come.

"What do you think you are doing with _that_?" She eyed the broom as if it was a dangerous object capable of casting the worst, most torturous Dark Magic. And yet, she followed him, not keen either on the idea of being left behind down by the Slytherin dungeon alone.

"You are going to fly it." He replied matter-of-fact-ly, as it was the most obvious thing in the world, only making her eyes widen more as she struggled to catch up with him.

"No!" She said sternly, trying to make her point as clear as possible, not knowing why she continued to follow him now down the snow covered grounds towards the large Quidditch Pitch. She should just head back and return to the Gryffindor tower. And yet, she followed him. "I will not do that."

"Why not?" He asked her lightly, stopping his march right in the middle of the snow covered pitch, turning around to face her.

The Quidditch Pitch was completely empty, as she he had no doubt known it would be, no House holding practice that night. It occurred to her then that she had never been there before. Not in the field itself, only always at the seats piled up for students to watch. She could not help as her eyes almost immediately turned up, looking at the two pairs of three hoops stretching tall at either end of the filed, suddenly looking way taller from down here.

"Because I hate flying. I have told you that." She replied, trying to stress her words firmly, her eyes returning to look at him. His skin looked as white and flawless as the snow pooling at their feet, making his hair look even paler than usual in the frail moonlight as those cold blue eyes stared at her for a long moment.

"Which I still believe is insane." There it was, that perfect eyebrow once more, taking a step closer to her as he spoke, still holding to his broomstick. "And you have only tried it once, you said so yourself. Try it again."

"No." She shook her head, watching in fear as he swung one of his long legs over the broomstick, ready to rise high in the air at any second.

"Why are you always so wary about everything?" She thought he would roll his eyes at her at the tone of his voice, yet he did not, his face always that calmed perfectly composed mask, so absurdly handsome. One of his long fingered hands stretched in her direction, inviting her to mount the broomstick behind him, and still she hesitated.

"What if-" She did not finish her sentence, part of her curious about mounting the broomstick behind him, yet the majority of her dreaded the thought of it, feeling nauseous only at the prospect of finding herself without her feet safely pressed on the ground.

"You will not fall." He seemed to have read her mind, his hand still stretched out to her, waiting patiently for her to take it. And she wanted to take it, feaedr it too deeply and at the same time wanted it.

"Not so brave for a Gryffindor?" He chuckled, and that made it, her eyes throwing him one last glare before she accepted his hand, letting him help her behind him as she almost reluctantly wrapped her thin arms around his middle.

"Ready?" He whispered behind his back to her, the soft iced breeze toying with his long silver strands of hair.

"No." She replied firmly, trying to swallow the fear that was pooling inside of her.

But he did not listen to her, seconds after stomping his foot on the snow and she felt life slipping out of her as they dashed abruptly upwards. Her eyes closed tightly immediately, trying with all of her might to concentrate on anything but the absence of anything solid underneath her now dangling feet, her arms tightening around his torso so fiercely she thought she would break at least one of his ribs. She opened one eye only a slit, feeling her heart jolt wildly as she looked how far below her feet the ground was, feeling as if she would pass out.

"Not so high!" She nearly yelled into his ear, crushing his middle all the more tightly. She was going to die here. She was going to die tonight. She hated flying. Now she could remember why.

"We are barely ten feet high." He complained with another light musical laugh, a sound that seemed so unlike anything she ever expected coming from him. At least one of them was having fun. And yet, she felt him expertly slow the broomstick to a stop.

"It is high enough." She replied, not able to make her voice sound nearly as steady as she wished for it to sound, closing her eyes again at the dizziness she felt from simply looking at the snow covered ground below.

"Can we move again now?" He asked her, not seeming to be enjoying sitting on a broomstick and remaining still on the air, when he could just dash around the air at unbelievable speed. Speed. Oh, no. She was definitely going to be sick now.

"Slowly." She warned him, bracing herself against the fear that continued to pool inside her stomach. "And I mean it, Lasgalen. _Slowly_."

"Alright." He shook his head slightly, another bell like chuckle leaving his mouth, inclining himself forward ever so slightly as the broomstick started to move forward at a steady slow pace.

"Thank you." She breathed out a sigh of relief, letting her hold on his torso lessen slightly at the comfortable slow pace.

"You cannot _possibly_ be enjoying this pace?" He muttered, seeming half-amused, half- annoyed at the painfully slow pace they followed. Even a running person would pass them by. She could nearly hear the frustration in his voice, as if wanting nothing more than to dash at full speed upwards as high as he possibly could. Bu then again, she guessed that for him, a talented Quidditch player, this pace would even be considered an insult. Not even Tilda rode this slowly.

And yet, something in him had changed, so imperceptibly she almost thought she had made it up. She could not tell how, or why, but it was as if the second his feet had been off the ground a large portion of the ice cold wall that seemed to always surround him had vanished, as if being on the air liberated him from a heavy weight that choked him and suffocated him when down on the ground. It was so confusing, so overly strange.

"Yes, I am." She replied, once again pronouncing her words carefully and clearly as if not to give him any ideas.

"Hold tight." He warned her, and for a second she felt her heart flip.

"No." She rushed to say, even though she did hold tighter, holding on nearly for her life. "No! Lasgalen! No! I mean it!"

She cried out in fright, her words utterly and completely ignored by the Slytherin Seeker, who suddenly made the broomstick dash nearly vertically upwards. She was too shocked to even think about closing her eyes as everything seemed smaller and smaller below her. The iced wind slapped furiously at her face as he zoomed wildly around the air, suddenly going forwards and flying through one of the goal hoops, a scream leaving her throat as she thought they were going to crash into it.

And it did not stop there, he went higher and higher, her heart threatening to stop beating as the forbidden forest grew into a tiny dark mass below her feet, the castle small below her, looking more like a dollhouse. She could not tell exactly how fast they were going but she was sure it had to be the broomstick's full speed, because it felt as if nothing could ever go faster than they currently were.

And then, as if making it his mission to frighten her to death, he suddenly headed for the lake inclining forward and making them drop almost vertically downward. She would have screamed but could no longer find her voice, feeling her stomach in her throat at the fall, the black mirror surface of the lake coming closer and closer and closer, and they were going to crash, they were to smash against the water and they…they turned, the broom flying straight forward once more, the water's surface only couple of meters below their feet, the broomstick slowing to a more enjoyable pace.

She let out a shaky breath she had not even realized she had been holding, amazed at the fact that she was still alive. Merlin, she was alive. And yet, for once she was happy to be flying, her legs suddenly feeling like jelly, and she knew she would not be able to stand had she been on the ground.

"Are you alright?" His voice spoke through the wind that still smacked across their faces, although gentler now that they had lowered their speed. She nodded her head, sure that her voice would not come out even if she tried to speak.

And yet, there was something else rushing through her body at the moment, as powerful and overwhelming as her fear, seeming to be quenching it, to make her senses sharper, every feeling magnified. Adrenaline. It was pure, intoxicating adrenaline. When was the last time she had ever felt this rush of excitement? This pure enjoyment at letting something go out of her control for once? And oddly, against any other reaction she had ever expected, even as her legs continued to shake like pudding, she laughed. And she could not stop, nervous trembling giggles continuing to leave her mouth wildly.

" _That,_ was the scariest thing I have ever done." She spoke, her voice shaking as much as her legs and giggles, listening to his own suddenly carefree laughter ring on the air. Some distance below their feet, the black expanse of the lake stretched almost immensely, the pale moonbeams reflecting in odd silver swirls over its surface.

"It wasn't so bad." He called behind his back to her, and for the first time she found herself agreeing with him.

"No. I guess it wasn't." She shook her head, letting him guide the broomstick a little higher, going in a wide curve before seeming to be heading back towards the Quidditch Pitch.

"How did you learn to fly like that?" She found herself asking, not able to stop herself, her smile still wide as she continued to chuckle and squeal at any unexpected turn of the broom.

"Practice." He replied with a shrug, the view of the castle with its million tiny yellow-lit windows coming closer to them as they flew. "I got my first broom when I was five."

"Is it this one?" She asked, slightly taken aback by his voluntary sharing of any sort of personal information, for the first time her tone matching his, neither of them hostile or snapping at each other.

"Of course not." He chuckled at her question, as if suggesting that it was simply ridiculous, but then again, she knew nothing about broomsticks.

"What happened to that one then?" She gripped tighter to his torso as they flew upward once more, following the massive height of the Astronomy Tower.

"I crashed it." He admitted, making her let out a long laugh. "Against a big ancient tree in our backyard."

"Sounds like something I would have done." She muttered with a hardly concealed giggled as he carefully landed over the top of the Astronomy Tower, the tallest tower in Hogwarts, helping her down before dismounting himself.

Just as she had expected, her legs had indeed been turned to jelly, shaking and buckling as she let herself fall backwards upon the stone floor, her arms outstretched to her sides, taking in long breaths. She felt as if she had been mere inches from dying and had somehow miraculously survived. He laughed at her, his expression for once not blank, eyes slightly softer than their usual piercing sharpness, shaking his silvery head at her.

"And your father let you have another broom after you crashed the first one?" It was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him, still unable to control her sporadic adrenaline filled giggles as she took deep calming breaths, propping herself on her elbows to be able to look at him better.

"Yes." He nodded his head, smiling strangely at her as he studied her carefully, as it finding her entirely too odd for him to understand. "Although I was more scared of getting onto a broomstick again than he was of me crashing it for a second time."

"I do not believe that." She snorted at him as she sat up straighter, her limbs regaining some of their stability. Her hands pulled her school robes closer to her body. It was freezing out here. It would be a miracle if neither of them got a cold after flying like that in the ice cold night air only in their school robes.

"Oh yeah." He laughed at her one more. "He had to nearly tie me onto it."

"And then?" She looked up at him, finding nearly impossible to match the person standing right in front of her to the one she had nearly wanted to murder at the library only minutes ago. And oddest of all, he was still smiling at her, a smile that for the first time did not feel forced, cold or controlled, it seemed almost real, going charmingly higher on his right cheek than his left.

"I didn't crash it again, if that is your question." He completed his tale, letting out another strangely unguarded chuckle as he pulled her to stand on her feet. "I merely flew it for a couple of hours and then returned into the house and ate nearly all of Legolas' Christmas candy. He was only two, so he didn't even notice."

She laughed along with him, shaking her head as her hands carefully straightened her school robes, brushing away the few snow patches accumulating near the hem. Then, she followed him down the long spiraling steps and into the warmth of the castle. It was definitely late now, but perhaps she would manage not to get caught on her way back to the Gryffindor tower.

"I thought you said you did not like candy?" She realized what he had just said in his story, gazing at him curiously.

"I don't." He just shrugged his shoulders, walking beside her through the long spiraling steps.

"Goodnight, Bowman." He added as he turned left once they reached the landing of the seemingly endless staircase, turning onto a corridor that she guessed must lead back down towards the dungeons.

"Goodnight." She waved hand, finding herself slightly confused and strangely amused. Against anything she had expected, she had enjoyed the time with him, even though it felt so puzzling to her, so ungraspable. It had been fun.

"And we are still _not_ friends." She added just as he turned his back to her, trying to sound as short as she usually addressed him, and finding that she could not.

"I know that." He did not turn around as he spoke, even though she could hear the smile on his voice, watching him disappear around a corner….

Here is chapter 11! I hope you enjoy it! Finally these two seem to soften a little…anyway the mystery will continue on with the next chapter! So many things to find out!

Thank you thank you thank you to: Amsim, Win Lockwood, VanyaNoldo22, It'sBeenARealSlice, Rose61393 and ErynielGreenleaf for commenting on the last chapter. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your comments and it made my day to know you enjoyed the chapter even those two only bicker at each other!

Love,

Elena


	12. Among Grey Clouds

A week passed by without the Sun showing its face more than once or twice for days in a row. Outside, the snow-covered grounds shimmered dully underneath the overcast grey sky, which felt so heavy that Sigrid wondered if it would end up falling over them if the clouds did not clear up soon. To make matters worse, the temperature outside had seemed to drop even more as the days went by, the students only ever leaving the castle to hurry begrudgingly huddled underneath heavy cloaks and scarves to head down to the greenhouses for Herbology. Even Care of Magical Creatures had temporarily been given a classroom in the warm interiors of the castle for the time being.

Yet, the atmosphere inside the torch-lit halls was all but gloomy. As the date grew closer to the promised Yule Ball, the chatters and whispers of excited students only grew louder, much to Sigrid's nerves, whose stomach had seemed to be perpetually tied in the most uncomfortable set of knots now. Every day more and more students would babble to their friends on the Great Hall about already been invited, those still left without dates starting to worry that they would end up date-less if they did not do something about it soon.

Half of the Gryffindor girls had already been asked to the ball. It was hard to forget how last night, in their dormitory, Saturna Blackbourn had gone on and on and on with excruciating detail about how Lester Davis – a Hufflepuff boy that Sigrid had to admit was very handsome indeed- had asked her to be his date just after their Transfigurations class. She had tried to put the subject back in the farthest corner of her mind, trying not to listen to the little voice telling her that perhaps she should just ask one of the twins to take her as friends. It was better than not going at all. But she did not want to do that.

Instead, Sigrid found herself concentrating once more on her lessons and classes, trying desperately to tune out all the gossiping that surrounded her all during their Defense Against the Dark Arts that morning. It seemed that the twins had not managed to tune out the gossips as well as her, for Elladan, in his attempt to listen over a conversation between two Ravenclaw girls, forgot that he was supposed to cast a shield charm at his twin who was supposed to be attempting to jinx him, resulting in the elder twin falling backwards on the floor with both of his legs tied together like glue.

Still, no matter how many times she had to hear Saturna retelling her story, nothing could ever compare to the sickening feeling Sigrid got that Wednesday. She and Eowyn had been making their way down from the Astronomy tower, passing through the large corridors that led to the Great Hall when they had walked past a group of whispering and giggling fifth year Slytherin girls. Sigrid recognized her at once, impossible to miss with her perfect dark hair that seemed to be made of silk and her stunning pale green eyes that gleamed underneath thick dark lashes.

"You did say yes, did you, Alexis?" One of the giggling girls asked excitedly, hands holding onto Alexis Sonnet's pale thin arm as the bunch of girls nearly swallowed over her, all seeming too eager to hear more of the story.

"Of course I did, Azalia." The dark haired Slytherin answered proudly, seeming to be enjoying the excited gasp her friends were giving. "Of course I already knew he would ask me, I mean I am his _girlfriend._ But isn't it beautiful?"

The Slytherin chaser was showing the group of annoyingly grinning girls a single pale flower held in her delicate fingers, one of the girls whispering "So thoughtful" as they marched down the hallway and slowly disappearing from view.

Sigrid could not name what she felt, or why she felt it, once again hating that green monster that rose inside of her and made her want to rip the perfect Slytherin chaser into pieces. But why did she care about it anyway? What was the matter with her? And yet, all throughout the long double period of Charms that afternoon, Sigrid had to pretend to be too frustrated about their homework to be able to mask her overly sour mood. Not even Eowyn dared to speak to her during dinner or later that night when she retired into the girl's dormitory at barely eight.

"Do you think he will ask me?" Eowyn whispered lowly to her during lunch the following day, dropping her heavy schoolbooks over the table next her, making a few drops of pumpkin juice splatter from her golden cup.

"Who?" Sigrid, who had been too immersed in her task of finishing the essay they had to handle McGonagall in barely an hour, had to think for a little while before being able to follow her friends' trail of thought.

"You know….. _Him!_ " Her friend's exasperated grey-blue eyes turned in her direction impatiently, throwing a badly disguised look at the Ravenclaw table behind them, not daring to speak the name of the boy she was so desperately looking at for fear that he might somehow listen.

Still, Sigrid had to fight very hard not to roll her eyes, knowing that her friend would smack her head with one of those heavy books if she so only as hinted at it. She did not fancy sporting a black eye or bruised forehead at the moment. It might lower her already slim chances of ever acquiring a date for the Yule Ball in time. Instead she let her eyes wonder discreetly over the long Ravenclaw Table, not really finding out at who exactly her friend was pointing.

"Why don't you ask him?" She suggested, brushing her messy curls over her shoulders as she spoke. She knew better than to ask for names at the moment. And more so, she did _not_ wish to discuss dates for the ball any longer, already tired of it.

"No way." Eowyn crossed her arms reluctantly, giving her that stubborn determined look that she knew meant she would never change her mind. She watched in silence, shaking her head slightly as her friend proceeded to fill her plate without even looking at what she was grabbing.

"it's still two whole weeks to the Ball." Sigrid sighed, trying her best to sound encouraging without rolling her eyes, not managing the intended tone as she sneezed for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

"Bless you." Ewoyn said kindly, even though she could tell her friend was debating whether or not to sit a little farther from her, as if to not catch whatever cold Sigrid had. "Why don't you go see Madam Pomfrey?"

Now Sigrid could not refrain herself from rolling her eyes, wrapping her scarf closer around her neck. "Stop insisting on that, I'm fine. It's just sneezing."

"Well, Madam Pomfrey can give something to make you stop sneezing. It's rather disgusting, did you know?" Eowyn tried to mock her, even though she could see the smirk breaking through her failed stern face.

"Next time you get a cold I'll call _you_ disgusting." Sigrid bit back, unable to contain a light laugh, watching as her friend merely resorted to tie back her long golden waves and threw open her copy of today's Daily Prophet, nearly disappearing behind it. "Besides, nearly the whole castle is sick by now."

That was no lie. It seemed that with the horrible cold weather and overcast sky, nearly more than half of the staff and students were found sneezing our coughing through the hallways. The Hospital Wing was currently packed with students asking for cough potions, a couple of them even shivering from slight fevers. Professors were urging students not to go outside in this weather, and chastising and awarding detention to anyone who was as dumb as to place a bet about jumping onto the freezing lake. She could not tell who had come up with the idea of that particular challenge – two students had already jumped and of course now were part of those students lying shivering on the Hospital Wing- but imagined it most certainly had something to do with the twins.

"That is true." Her friend raised a blond eyebrow in her direction, placing the newspaper down on the table in front of her, seeming to forget about it again. "Still, I don't need you to _contaminate_ me with whatever it is you have so close to the game this Saturday."

"Do you really think we'll win this one?" Sigrid tried to sound hopeful and excited when in truth she was feeling anything but that. Not that she particularly enjoyed talking about Quidditch, but she would rather her friend babble for hours and hours about their coming game against Slytherin than about Yule Ball dates. Still even though she did not wish to admit it to Eowyn, she knew their chances at beating the Slytehrin team were slim this year.

"I certainly hope." Her friend sighed, all previous conversation about dates momentarily forgotten. "Their Keeper is terrible, although they do have a good set of chasers. I just need to catch the snitch before they can score too many goals. End the game quickly."

"Do you think you'll be able to do that?" She was proud of herself for hiding just how doubtful she felt of her best friend managing to be the one to catch the snitch. Not that she doubted Eowyn's abilities as Seeker. She was a good Seeker, flew better than nearly anyone in the Gryffindor Quidditch team, even better than most players in the other Houses' teams. But Thranduil Lasgalen was simply hard to match, and the whole school knew that. The chances for anyone to catch the tiny winged ball before Lasgalen were slimmer than the Slytherin Keeper managing to _finally_ block a goal.

As if reading her thoughts, Eowyn's face turned discretely to glance at the long Slytherin table at the far end of the Great Hall. Sigrid imitated her, finding it all too easy to find his tall figure sitting nearly at center of it, surrounded as usual by a bunch of other Slyethins, who looked up at him as if he was royalty. He too wore the silver and emerald scarf tightly wrapped around his neck, as if cold even in the comforting warmth of the Great Hall, and she noticed faintly as he coughed once into his fist, even though his face remained as serious and sharp as ever, an eerie calmness emanating from those piercing ice colored eyes.

"Hmm." Eowyn snorted, leaning closer to her before muttering under her breath. "I hope Lasgalen gets really sick too, so that he will not play on Saturday."

Sigrid doubted it, but she did not answer, merely feigning to put her attention once again on her half-eaten meal. She barely seen Thranduil Lasgalen all week, only seeing him during their tedious Potions class, where he never once again sat next to her, following his words. Still, she wanted to talk to him again, not knowing really why, but she did, even though she did not know when or how. She could not simply go talk to him during Potions. Not when he was surrounded by all the Slytherins and where Eowyn and the twins would throw her glances as if she had gone insane. And yet, she was still curious about him. That night a week ago had been unexpectedly exhilarating, she could not remember having such a good time in a long while. Still she needed to witness it once more, needed to get another glimpse at him without that cold wall of ice that seemed to surround him always, wanted to see him _really_ laugh instead of pretending to.

"I did it!" She was taken back from her wondering mind as Elrohir suddenly smacked the table from her left, dropping himself to sit on the wooden bench, his identical copy taking the seat right across. "I did it!"

"Did what?" Eowyn sounded as confused as she felt, cautiously eyeing the younger twin who seemed too proud of himself for his own good.

"I invited Sofina Wyne to the Yule Ball" Elrohir nearly sang, grinning widely as he stuffed nearly a whole toast into his mouth. "And she said yes!"

"You did not invite her." Muttered Elladan from in front of him, looking too amused, silver eyes sporting that familiar gleam that only meant he was about to mock his brother. "You yelled it in the hallway in front of half of the school. Of course she would say yes! The poor thing was so embarrassed!"

"She said yes anyway." The younger twin glared at his replica, snatching another toast right from his older brother's hands and biting into it heartedly. "At least _I_ have got a date now, Dan. Unlike you."

"How's it going for you, Dan?" Eowyn asked the elder twin, who grunted and shook his head, not too happy about the question.

"By the looks of it I'll end up taking Moaning Myrtle to the ball." He muttered, even though the idea seemed to somehow amused him, as he let out a laugh. "Imagine her in a dress."

That was it. She could not take it, her stomach was already too tied in nerves and twisting painfully. Searching for an escape from this torturous conversation, Sigrid quickly snatched the forgotten Daily Prophet from in front of Eowyn, letting her eyes curiously scan through the pages, pretending to be incredibly interested in an article about a wizard who was convicted for knowingly selling defective cauldrons to the Ministry. She turned the page, once finding nothing worth reading but not minding it.

She was about to turn the page, but suddenly halted, a new small tittle in bold black letters coming up to her attention at the corner of a page. It had been astutely placed in a corner of the paper, as if not wanting to attract too much interest to it.

"Look!" She gasped lowly, stopping Elladan mid-sentence as four pairs of eyes suddenly turned to look at the paper she was now holding wide open for them to see. "Someone has broken into the Ministry!"

"Impossible." Elrohir was the one to speak, his voice suddenly losing all trace of mockery and carefreeness.

"It says so here." She whispered, her fingers gliding through the letters of the short article written underneath the bold tittle. " _Yesterday evening, at approximately eleven p.m. one office at the Ministry was broken into by a wizard or witch yet unidentified. The staff is working furiously on investigating whether any items have been stolen or gone missing, but for the time being everything appears to be in order. The office in question belongs to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which the Minister assures had been locked securely for the night."_

"So whoever it was, they did not steal anything?" Elladan's voice had dropped to a near whisper, silver eyes glancing at the article deep in thought.

"It does not say." She replied. The article was too short, it gave very little detail, not a single name in it, as if not even the people who had written it had known exactly what had happened. Perhaps that was why it was in a corner of the page instead of front page, as news of this magnitude would most probably be.

"You cannot _break into_ the Ministry. It is nearly impossible." Elrohir pointed out, his silver eyes as lost in thought as his brothers, their teasing gleam completely vanished.

"Who is the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Eowyn voiced the question that she too had been wondering, her hands folding the paper back neatly, as if disturbed enough by hearing the news once and not wanting to see article again.

"Oropher Lasgalen." Elladan whispered sourly, his eyes nodding lightly in the direction of the silver haired brothers casually sitting at the Slytherin table far back.

She did not know what to think, her mind racing with a million new questions she could not find answers to, and she knew that no matter how much she tried, she would not find the answers so easily. Why would anyone break into the Ministry to sack something as simple as a mere _office_? Had the wizard who had broken in made a mistake, had he been aiming for a different room? It was a possibility.

"Come, or we'll be late for Transfigurations." Elrohir rose to his feet, making a displeased expression before hoisting his schoolbag over his shoulder.

Transfigurations. She had completely forgotten about finishing her essay in time. Cursing herself inwardly, she followed her friends up moving staircases and towards the castle, and, as she had expected, had to sit through class with her head lowered in embarrassment at the disappointed look McGonagall gave her once she handed in her half-written essay. That was a first.

Conversation and whispers about the Yule Ball did not stop for the remainder of the week, but, thankfully for Sigrid, the majority of the students seemed to momentarily forget about the ball as Saturday approached. Quidditch was all that was being talked about instead. It was common knowledge now that Gryffindor needed to win by two hundred points to still be in the running for the cup, placing them above Hufflepuff. Still, never in her life had Sigrid been happier to talk about Quidditch. And, as Saturday morning arrived with the same overcast grey sky and freezing wind, all chatter about the Yule ball seemed to have been entirely forgotten.

The whole school was dressed in either red of green, banners flying nearly everywhere as groups of students piled over the hallways to either cheer or boo at the team members as the students made their way in massed down towards the Quidditch Pitch. An annoying group of Slytherins had even composed a nasty song about the Gryffindor team, singing it loudly and proudly at every chance they got.

"This weather is not good." Elrohir muttered as they made their way down the snow covered grounds, holding his broom tightly in his right hand, silver eyes looking up at the heavy wet clouds.

"It'll be nearly impossible to see the snitch." Eowyn pointed out thoughtfully, barely managing to dodge a group of Slytherins that went running down towards the pitch, as if they would run out of seats.

"Do you think you'll manage to catch it first?" Sigrid pondered. She really hoped her friend would, after all she wanted Gryffindor to win. But more than that she worried about how insufferable Eowyn would be if once again Lasgalen caught the snitch before her.

"Yeah, I think it won't be hard." Ewoyn nodded, tying her long golden waves tighter in a ponytail her eyes suddenly widening in surprise at Sigrid's confused expression.

"You did not hear?" Her friend sounded positively too excited. Now there was definitely something Sigrid did not yet know. "Lasgalen's not playing today! Apparently he _did_ get sick. It's such a wonder I don't do better in Divination after this prediction I've made!"

Eowyn sounded too excited about the prospect of a positive outcome for the game that she completely missed the momentary look of worry that crossed Sigrid's face, one that she was quickly able to mask for confusion.

"What happened?" She was able to feign happiness for her friend, even though there was still that uncomfortable feeling pooling inside of her that told her something was not right. Something was off. "Why wouldn't he be playing?"

"Because he's sick. He caught whatever it is half the school has." Eowyn shrugged, for once too mirthful about the prospect of catching the snitch to care about studying or questioning her friend's interest in the topic. "Anyway, I'm not complaining about him not playing! It seems that _finally_ Snape's favoritism works for our advantage. Half the Slytherin team is sick as well, even half or our team is sneezing too! And yet only Lasgalen was forbidden to play, Snape saying he did not want him to get sicker! Ha!"

Her friend gave a little jump, her face adorned with the widest smile Sigrid had seen there in a while. She seemed too delighted about winning the game. Even the twins seemed happy about the news, joining in Eowyn's grinning from either side as they continued through the slippery snowed path.

" _Snape_ preventing his star Seeker from playing?" Sigrid could not help but questioning, that pang of inexplicable deep worry still burning through her insides. "Since when would Snape do anything that would prevent Slytherin from winning over Gryffindor?"

"I think Snape's just sacred of having to face Oropher Lasgalen if his favorite student gets sicker from playing a little Quidditch." Elladan grinned from her side, hurrying along with Eowyn and his twin down towards the changing rooms. "After all he had claimed detention was _too dangerous_ for his son. I bet he'd have something to say about Quidditch."

Sigrid shook her head, yelling good luck to her friends before resorting to make her way to the sitting rows. She was gladly able to catch up with Eddelina and Saturna- both girls dressed head to toe in scarlet- and sit with them in one of the highest rows, where they could have a perfect view of the match.

Yells and cheers erupted all around her as the team member's now clad in emerald and scarlet flew suddenly out of the changing rooms, the students standing on their feet, waving their arms frantically or jumping in order to get a better view. It was increasingly hard to see through the mass of flags and posters that the students had made, sparks either red or green exploding form every other wand. She clapped her hands furiously, yelling over the crowd in cheer as the twins dashed nearby, ready to take their places for the beginning of the game. Up, higher above her head, she could see Eowyn's silhouette, overlooking the positioned teams, ready to start.

A smirk crossed her face, letting out a loud laugh as she caught sight of the Slytherin Keeper. The poor red-faced boy looked about to be sick with nerves, nearly trembling on his broom. He would not be able to stop many goals. Perhaps the chances did look good for Gryffindor today. Still it was hard to see with the grey clouds all around, the cold air making students shiver every once in a while even though none stopped cheering as loudly as their lungs allowed it.

"And the Quaffle is in air!" The voice of Eliseus Dorner echoed loudly on the enchanted megaphone. "The game starts!

The cheering got even louder than before, a flash of scarlet passing in front of her side of the pitch as the players moved in a flash, the red ball flying quickly from hand to hand. She wondered at how could anyone really see what was happening? The players moved too fast!

"Peredhel's got the Quaffle! Don't know which one it is!" Dorner's voice roared over the loud crowd.

"Yes!" She screamed loudly, clapping her gloved hands furiously again, even though once again her voice was drowned by the roaring crowd. Eddelina was jumping wildly next to her, bumping into her uncomfortably, but Sigrid could not have cared less. Once of the twins had the Quaffle!

"Now the other Peredhel!" Dorner yelled, sounding a little too excited. "They really should make it easier to tell apart during games. Alexis Sonnet has intersected the pass. Sonnet with the Quaffle now! Sonnet passes to Yorish! Now Sonnet again! And… Slytherin Scores." Even Dorner's voice seemed bitter about it, making it clear which team he was rooting for. "10 to 0 in favor of Slytherin."

The green half of the Quiddith Pitch erupted in cheers and yells, the crowd seeming to go wild as green and silver sparks flew through the air at every side. The red crowd booed and complained in return, loud curses and yells ringing in Sigrid's ears from all sides, some students even shouting that it had been a foul, that it should not have counted.

"Not fair!" Eddelina shouted right on her left ear, making her doubt whether or not she had been left deaf there from the ringing there was now left inside.

She used the moment to let her gaze wonder through the crowd of Slytherins, curiously searching for that particular silver head. But he did not seem to be there. It was frustratingly hard to find anyone in particular through such a crowd, especially when nearly all the students wore their equal dark winter cloaks, all the Slytherins clad in their green and silver scarves or green hats.

"Peredhel with the Quaffle again! I'm going to guess this is Elrohir, but I' not completely sure…" Dorner's voice bellowed on the megaphone, the crowd around Sigrid exploding in wild cheers and claps again.

She was about to turn her eyes up again, giving up on her task of searching through the Slytherin crowd when she found him. He was sitting at the front row, left to Professor Snape himself as if the Head of Slytherin was holding guard over him, his long silver hair impossible to miss, contrasting stunningly against his dark winter cloak. He was the only Slytherin neither cheering nor booing, merely sitting perfectly still and regal looking, his face a perfect mask of sharp calmness. Ice blue eyes, the color of a frozen sky remained fixed on the game above, merely following the flying figures in complete silence, whatever it was he was thinking impossible to decipher. Thranduil Lasgalen wore the silver and green scarf, wrapped seemingly all too tightly around his neck, nearly covering his ears as well, both of his hands hidden inside his long winter cloak. She could not really tell from the distance whether he was really sick or not, but judging by the way in which he sat perfectly still the entire game, not even joining in the clapping once, he was either furious at something or was not feeling well at all.

The crowd around her suddenly exploded in wild cheers, Saturna's elbow nearly landing on her face as she jumped up to celebrate. She had been so immersed in studying the benched Slytherin Seeker to notice that Gryffindor had suddenly scored.

"And Peredhel with the Quaffle again!" She could hear Dorner's voice chanting loudly once again, her eyes suddenly flying up to focus once more on the dashing figures high above.

It was only a couple of minutes later that Gryffindor managed another goal, and then another, and then a fourth one, the crowd of cheering Gryffindor's nearly losing their minds at their cheering, and she was sure more than one student would not be able to speak the next day. The cheering only stopped momentarily as Alexis Sonnet managed another goal for Slytherin, but it seemed to do little to discourage the Gryffindors, for seconds later Elladan –or so she thought- had managed to score again.

She had never seen a game with this many goals, things starting to turn grim for the Slytherins. And even the green crowd in front of her seemed to have picked up on it, their cheers slowly dying away, faces looking disappointed, fearful. The scores were now three hundred and twenty for Gryffindor against a mere forty for Slytherin. Even if the Slytherin's caught the snitch, Gryffindor would still win. But there had been no sigh of the little golden ball yet.

In front of the three goal hoops, the Slytherin Keeper was rapidly losing what little hope and confidence he had, the Quaffle now flying past him nearly at every throw. More than once she caught sight of a Slytherin chaser yelling at the poor red faced boy, trying to coax him to actually concentrate on stopping the Gryffindors from scoring. The numbers rapidly raised to three hundred and sixty from Gryffindor, then four hundred, then four hundred and ten.

High above their heads the sky had started to rumble with lazy thunder, a weak lightning going off every once in a while. Soon a soft ice cold drizzle started to fall over them, making the students yell in surprise, a few girls trying to cover their heads, but none of the boys seemed to mind as they kept yelling at the full power of their lungs, not seeming to care about the cold and wet weather.

Across the snowed field, she caught sight of Snape suddenly rising to his feet the second it started raining, pulling up a stone faced Lasgalen by the arm, and hurrying him out of the curtain of ice cold water and into a selected part of the seats that were covered with a roof. So he really was sick then. Still she did not believe it could be the same the whole school had. No other student was being rushed out of the rain, Madam Pomfrey would easily be able to cure a cold in a second.

"Rohan has seen the snitch!" Dorner bellowed onto the megaphone, the words making Sigrid jump once as she immediately lifted her eyes, only to see her best friend suddenly dashing at full speed across the field. She had seen it! She had seen it!

"Catch it Eowyn!" She yelled as loudly as she could, perfectly aware that her friend would not be able to hear her but not caring at all. The green clad make-up Seeker was tailing Eowyn closely behind, almost too closely, nearly head to head with her.

"Rohan's still ahead, but not for much!" Dorner kept yelling above the roaring crowd, even the other players seemed to have stopped moving, all eyes on the pair flying at full speed in circles around the field. "Lasgalen is at her toes! They're nearly head to head now! Come on Rohan, get the snitch!"

Her heart flipped as she suddenly did a double take. Lasgal….but she had just seen him in the crowd sitting next to Snape? And then it downed on her. Of course. She had not even considered it, with the younger Lasgalen being only a first-year, she had not once thought that he would be playing Seeker in his brother's absence. But now, as her eyes lifted to look at her friend flying at full speed upwards, it was increasingly obvious as to whom that perfect waterfall of silver hair belonged to. Still the younger Lasgalen looked so little on the large broomstick, even though he flew faster than she had even imagined.

And then, it happened in a split second. Eowyn's hand had been stretched high, nearly grazing the golden ball, Legolas Lasgalen right next to her, arm also extended. And then a fist closed over the snitch, the loud whistle signaling the end of the game echoing loudly in the wet air.

"Lasgalen has caught the snitch." Eliseus Dorner announced loudly on the megaphone, not seeming discouraged at all. "But Gryffindor wins! Four hundred and thirty to one hundred and ninety!"

the crowd of Gryffindors went insane around her, and for a second she could not even see anything through the mass of students jumping and celebrating. Still they had won! They won! No matter who had caught the snitch, Eowyn and the twins would be celebrating tonight. There would be no one grumpy or complaining at the Gryffindor tower.

She could already see the mass of students running towards the field, the Gryffindors rushing to receive their team who was only now landing upon the soft white snow. Even some of the Slytherins had rushed down to their team, filling the field in an odd combination of red and green. She could feel students pushing her from all sides, nearly throwing her down the stairs in their efforts to dash towards the field.

"Did you see me!? Did you see me?!" Her eyes turned again to the full field below at the high-pitched excited scream the younger Lasgalen had just let out.

She found his little figure easily, the elven year old rushing through the snow dragging his broom by the hand, the widest, purest smiles of joy fixed on his face. One of his short arms was raised high in the air, the fluttering tiny ball still held tightly in his fist. Any on looking eye would have believed Slytherin had won judging by the sheer happiness written on the running boy. Still the Slytherins clapped and cheered at him, and she was unable to contain a smile as she saw the boy smashing against his older brother delightedly the second the latter stepped into the snow covered field.

"Did you see me?!" The younger Lasgalen screamed again directly at his brother, jumping on his spot as he held the snitch as high as he could in front of his brother's face. "I did it! Like you!"

"Yes I saw you." She could hear the older Lasgalen laughing, a gloved hand ruffling through his little brother's silver head, the later squirming out of the touch with a playful glare, the small crowd of Slytherin walking by to celebrate the younger Lasgalen as if he had won the game. But she knew nobody in their right mind could stop themselves from grinning and celebrating at just how proud and happy the younger brother was.

"Do you want to hold it?" The smiling eleven-year-old offered the fluttering snitch up to his brother, who merely laughed before shaking his head.

"No. You keep it." The elder of the brothers shoved the younger one playfully by the shoulder, the later elbowing him in return, still waving the snitch high in the air.

"Get off the rain you fool!" The younger brother suddenly added, pushing his elder brother with difficulty out into the roofed ring around the field, just underneath the sitting towers, the older brother laughing the entire time.

"Hey!" The younger brother suddenly squealed, noticing a little too late that the snitch had been snatched from his little hand by his older brother in a too fast move, leaving the younger Lasgalen laughing loudly. "Give it back! I caught it! It's mine!"

Legolas kept jumping, trying to snatch the winged ball back from his brother, the later too quick for him to succeed.

"Come on, Thran!" Legolas complained in between laugher, throwing a playful punch to his brother's upper left arm, just underneath his shoulder.

"Argh!" The elder Lasgalen gasped almost immediately, wincing once before regaining his perfect composure. And yet, even though his sudden gasp of pain went unnoticed by the small crowd of chatting Slytherins, she could see Legolas' large blue eyes suddenly widening as if in horror.

"Sorry! I forgot!" He whispered almost immediately, looking almost mortified, all traces of previous jests gone from his still childish face.

"It's fine." The elder brother added quickly, face once again looking perfectly calmed, even though his smile was once again forced, even though it tried to be reassuring, as if trying to perfectly control his expression. "Here."

And with that, the older of the two brothers threw the tiny ball in the direction of the younger boy, the golden ball fluttering momentarily in the air as if attempting to free itself before it was once again securely held in the smaller fingers. Throwing his elder brother one last apologetic smile, the younger Lasgalen turned around and ran towards the crowd of Slytherins that had been cheering for him, showing them proudly the tiny golden ball in his fist…

Here is chapter 12! I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! More interaction between Sigrid and Trhanduil to come soon in the next chapter…and hopefully some answers, or perhaps more questions? I hope this chapter is not too long, I did not want to crop anything out so I left it this long.

Anyway, thank you so much to Eryniel Greenleaf and Rose61393 for leaving a comment on the last chapter! Really thank you, it means a lot to me that you've left a review. You guys are the best!

Rose61393: HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I didn't have the chapter ready on your birthday but I hope it's not too late for it to still be a birthday present! I hope it was a wonderful one full with friends and fun!

Love,

Elena


	13. Talk

She raced down the spectating towers, struggling along with the mass of cheerful students still jumping and yelling in her way. She had lost sight of both Eddelina and Saturna a long time ago, but she did not really care. They were not that close friends. Finally, and after what felt like ages, Sigrid felt her feet landing on the soft white snow, which crunched underneath her steps as she hurried through the crowd.

"We won!" Ewoyn nearly slammed into her, and for a split of a second all that Sigrid could see was a mane of long blond waves blocking her vision, pale arms wrapping tightly around her, nearly knocking her backwards. "We still can win the cup!"

"Congratulations!" She could not contain her smile, watching out of the corner of her eyes as two identical figures rushed in her direction, equally grinning.

"Not a bad game, huh?" Elladan's grin glimmered inside his silver eyes, his long ebony hair plastered to his head due to the nagging cold rain still drizzling over them.

"Come on, let's get changed so we can celebrate!" Elrohir waved at her three friends, all of them still sporting the soaking scarlet robes, and Sigrid could notice with the corner of her eyes the remaining of the Gryffindor team starting to make their way to the changing rooms.

"See you at the common room?" Eowyn practically jumped up and down as she followed the twins, throwing her one last wild grin as she simply nodded her head.

"Sure! See you in a while." She called back, yelling over the crowd of students that were walking past her and starting their long march up back to the castle.

There would definitely be a party at the Gryffindor common room that night. There always was every time they won a game. Sometimes even when they lost the students still managed to throw a party at the common room, leaving them all exhausted and yawning the next day. But she did not mind, she was already looking forward to celebrating with Eowyn and the twins. Perhaps someone would manage to steal snacks from the kitchen and bring them up to the Gryffindor tower? She was starving.

The mass of students moved slowly, still chatting loudly in huddled groups, retelling each other nearly every move of the game. It was easy to identify the Gryffindors, still clad in hats and scarves of the brightest of scarlets, jumping in groups or booing at any Slytherin who dared pass too close to them. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about the rain, the students now drenched. Even she could feel the weight of her winter cloak as the now soaked garment nearly dragged her down as she walked.

"B-Bowman?" A hand tapped her shoulder, making her turn around in surprise. The crowd of students had started to spread now on the open grounds, some running towards the warm interior of the castle.

"Oh, hi, Wills." She stammered, fidgeting slightly while placing a wet lock of her curly blond hair behind her ear. It ended up being a useless move, as it felt right out in front of her face again. Standing right in front of her she found none other than those large black eyes and equally black hair over pale white skin that belonged to Curtis Wills.

"Hi." He waved slightly with a hand, the move nearly awkward before he decided to stuff both of his hands safely into his school robes pockets, after straightening his Ravenclaw scarf around his neck. "Did you see the game?"

She opened her mouth to reply but he cut her off, one of his hands running through his hair nervously as he spoke. "I mean of course you were at the game…you're here walking back to the castle. And you're a Gryffindor. Congratulations, by the way. That was a spectacular game! You did great! I mean, not you, because you were not playing- but I don't mean you didn't do great either! I mean, all of you. You, Gryffindors, congratulations."

She had never heard anyone speak as fast as Wills was currently speaking, his tongue seeming to be getting tied every two words, leaving her standing there, waiting for him to finally take a breath before she could speak. And why was he talking to her? He was in her class, though he was a Ravenclaw, and they had spoken to each other a few times, but they were not really friends. She got along better with his twin sister, Felicia, who, unlike him, was a Hufflepuff.

"Thanks." Was all she could think of saying after he finally stopped to breathe, his handsome black eyes turning to gaze at his shoes momentarily, as if thinking of something else to say.

"Well, I should head back t-" She started slowly but his eyes shifted up to meet hers again, suddenly stopping her as he once again interrupted her.

"You don't have a date to the Yule Ball, do you?" He blurted out in one single breath, his eyes suddenly widening as if suddenly realizing he had said something wrong. "I don't mean that you wouldn't have a date. Of course you could have a date already, you're very pretty, I was just wondering if…if…you did have a date already?"

That took her by surprise, for a second feeling slightly perplexed and awkward, but seeing as he was simply a shaking ball of nerves, still fidgeting with his hands, she somehow managed to be the one to remain calmed.

"No." She chuckled lightly at the expression of his face. "I don't have a date yet."

"Wonderful." She saw him breath out a heavy sigh, as if deflating with relief, before he tensed once more, as if once again doubting if he had said the right thing. "Not that it's wonderful that you don't have a date…I just…ugh! Would you like to go…with….me?"

He stammered through the last part, one of his eyes closing as a near wince drew on his face, as if bracing himself for rejection. She waited for a whole second, not sure of what to say. She had definitely not expected him to invite her. Merlin she had not expected anyone to invite her at all! Curtis Wills. He was handsome. Very handsome. Indeed, she knew there was a group of Ravenclaw girls that had been silently hoping he would invite any of them. She had heard them whisper about it all during History of Magic the day before.

"Sure…yes…I'll go with you." She saw him let out another sigh of relief, this time a smile forming on his face, suddenly looking normal once more, no longer exceedingly nervous.

"Great!" He beamed, throwing her that handsome genuine smile that she knew many girls giggled at. "I'll meet you at the Entrance Hall that evening?"

"Sure, ok." She shrugged. At least he was nice. Things could have been so much worse, now that she thought of it. Curtis Wills would be a fun date.

"Great!" He said again, not seeming able to produce a wide vocabulary at the moment, one of his hands waving at her. "I should go now, but I'll see you for Yule!"

"Bye." She waved in return, watching his tall figure as he disappeared to joined a crowd of chatting and laughing Ravenclaw boys up at the large marble front staircase and into the majestic front doors.

She shook her head slightly, gathering herself up before she too decided to start her march back towards the castle. Oh, she could not wait to tell Eowyn. And Elladan and Elrohir. Somehow it felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was definitely going to the Yule Ball now. She climbed the steps two at a time, stopping suddenly as her eyes caught sight of a mane of silver hair disappearing around a corner, into one of the side courtyards.

She stopped in her tracks, fighting momentarily with herself. And yet, she could feel her feet aching to rush in that same direction. This was her chance. All the Gryffindors would be celebrating in the common room by now, the rest of the students probably going into their own Houses as well.

Making up her mind, she followed in the same direction, her rushed footsteps echoing in the cold stone floor. The small courtyard was empty, just as she had suspected it would be, the stone archways lining it elegantly from all sides. He was there, silently crossing in a straight diagonal through the snowed courtyard, not seeming to care that he was once again in the cold freezing rain, though rushing to get out of it. She had to run a little to be able to catch up with him, his ice blue eyes turning in her direction, looking momentarily surprised but saying nothing about it, merely continuing his way.

"Why didn't you play today?" The words left her mouth before she could really think of something better to say, following him across the courtyard and into the stone corridor lined with arches, safe from the freezing drizzle.

"Well, if it isn't my _not_ _friend_?" Perfect eyebrows shot up in his flawless forehead, stopping momentarily to look at her before continuing his peaceful walk, Sigrid following closely next to him. "Hello to you too, Bowman."

"Um..hello." She hastened to add, thinking that perhaps she should have started there instead of bluntly asking him why he had not played Seeker, and yet she shook her head lightly, as if trying to clear her head before speaking again.

"You didn't play today." She pointed out again. As if he didn't know that already. "Are you all right?"

"That's unusually nice of you to ask." That strikingly handsome face turned in her direction, stopping his march, his voice still that perfectly clamed musical sound that let nothing through it, ice blue eyes piercing through her underneath one raised eyebrow.

"I…" She was once again stunned for a split second, gathering herself again, fighting that tingling wild feeling in her stomach as she felt the weight of those frozen sapphires staring intently at her. "We're still not friends."

"Sure." Lasgalen shrugged, as if disinterested in her words. "You are being very _unfriendly_ indeed."

Sarcasm dripped down his velvet lined voice, and yet his face remained as unreadable as ever, only a hint of an amused smile creeping on the corner of his mouth. He looked at her for a long moment, making her have to fight the urge to fidget from foot to foot in the silence, trying to think of something to say.

"That's not the point." She hurried to add, not daring to be the one to look down, not breaking the long stare he was giving her. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" He narrowed his eyes slightly, his regal looking features momentarily confused.

"Like that….just…" She stopped herself, shaking her head once more before adding in another rush. "Anyway, you didn't answer me. Why didn't you play? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." He muttered, nearly huffing, even though his voice remained that royal sound that would make nearly anyone obey whatever he said.

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow, clearly not believing his blunt lie, struggling once more to place a long golden curl behind her ear. His ice blue eyes looked away for a moment, handsome face a combination of slight annoyance and displeasure.

"So you just decided you didn't want to play?" She had him, judging by how he clenched his jaw momentarily. Why was she doing this?

"Ok, I'm not _entirely_ fine." He muttered again, looking as if the words tasted sourly on his tongue, piercing eyes returning to bear through her. "But I'm not too bad. Snape was being overly cautious."

"I don't' think he was." She did not know why she said that, but once again the words left her mouth before she could think of them. Was he really still pretending that he was simply fine in front of her? "Stop acting as if I don't' know something's not right."

She was getting tired of it, and she could not understand why. She had already seen him once in the Hospital Wing, then scared to death and shaking in the hallway, and then in overwhelming pain, when he had used her as a shield in class so that no one would notice his bandaged hand. And still he was acting as if _nothing_ was out of the ordinary.

"I'm fi…" Lasgalen started again, but did not finish once he saw the skeptical glare she was throwing him, instead letting out an exasperated sigh. And yet, oddly, he seemed mellower, as if not really having the energy to maintain his sharp remarks and cold sarcastic comments. "Can we just sit down?"

He nodded towards one of the long stone benches lining the empty arcade, not waiting for her answer before gracefully walking in its direction, every single one of his moves seemingly effortless. She followed him, not fancying standing there alone, and too curious still to merely leave. And yet she did not miss the tiredness that flashed over his face for a second as he sat down, vanishing all too quickly.

"You're not feeling well, are you?" Her voice suddenly sounded softer, another inexplicable pang of worry appearing in her stomach as she lowered herself to sit beside him, suddenly cursing herself about being so obnoxiously pushy.

"It's not too bad." Was all he answered, for the first time answering her question directly instead of throwing another one of his infuriating comments. She could not tell whether he was lying or not, his expression impossible to read through, and still she worried.

"Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?" He definitely looked tired, there was no denying it now, but other than that, she could see nothing wrong with him. Perhaps it was really just a cold? Like most the school had?

Ice blue eyes turned to glare at her furiously, as if she had insulted him, letting her raise both of her arms defensively. "No, I _do not need_ to go to the Hospital Wing, Bowman. Drop it."

"Sorry." She added quickly, her eyes dropping to her feet, suddenly interested in her shoelaces.

"Why don't you want to tell me what's wrong?" She could not refrain from asking, even though her voice had lost all traces of its previous defiance, her voice low.

"I was under the impression that we were _not friends_?" There it was again, that infuriating knowing smirk on his face, and even though she wanted nothing more than to rip it from his handsome face, she could not get herself to do it, could not herself to rage in ire as she would have done a mere week ago.

"We're _not._ " She snapped, angry with herself for not managing to sound as annoyed as she wanted to.

"Well, I don't talk about myself with my _not friends_." He answered calmly, still she could see that victorious gleam on his impenetrable icy eyes that told her he was enjoying this too much, making her want to yell at him, but she only managed a glare.

"You don't talk about yourself with _anyone_." She pointed out, crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest. And yet why was she still sitting here? If she was so bothered with him as she was pretending to be, why hadn't she gotten up and left? He seemed aware of that too, for his eyes kept smirking at her.

"If you know that, then stop asking questions." His lips curved up faintly at the corner, and she once again threw a half-hearted glare in his direction.

"I'm not clueless, you know? I know there's something wrong. You _know_ I do." Her voice was almost a whisper, turning a little on the bench to face him better, brown eyes looking directly at his, tired of everything. "I know the rumors about you are false. People have it wrong. Have you forgotten I was with you that night during detention? I _know_ something is off, and that's why you were not in class the following two weeks."

"If you know that, why don't' you contradict the rumors then?" He did not look angered, not even slightly agitated at what he had heard, as if it had not surprised him at all.

"Because you don't stop them either. And neither does your brother." She whispered in return, once again feeling the weight of those mesmerizing powerful eyes. "Which makes me believe that whatever the truth is, you'd rather people believe the lies."

"Sometimes lies are preferable to the truth." Was all he said, even though she could not understand why would anyone prefer to be talked about behind their backs for things that were not true instead of contradicting the lies. But she did not question him about that.

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong?" She pressed, even though she hardly recognized her voice, barely a whisper.

"I don't want to talk about that." He sighed, eyes not looking at her, expression hard, and she immediately knew she would not be asking about it again. At least not that day.

"What _do_ you _want_ to talk about?" She added, not knowing why she had not just stood up and left by then, but he had not moved either, and she thought that as long as he wanted to remain there she would stay. She was still too curious about him, strangely enjoying his company no matter how exasperating he got.

He did not answer, icy colored eyes fixing momentarily on the white snow covering the courtyard, where the rain shimmered in a silver curtain, making it hard to see the other side of the square space.

"Why are you not celebrating with the rest of the Gryffindors?" He suddenly asked, ice blue eyes narrowing slightly as he turned back to face her. "Aren't your Quidditch parties supposed to be legendary?"

"I'm waiting for the worst of it to pass so that it's safe to go back in the tower." She found herself saying, nearly wincing as she imagined the chaos that the Gryffindor common room must be at the moment. Besides, she was sure no one would notice if she was a little late.

Surprisingly, he laughed, lightly and almost quietly, but oddly refreshing. She could get used to that laugh, if only he wasn't so stone-faced and cold nearly all the time. It was as if almost for a momentary second she had caught a glimpse of that iced barrier breaking, watching that rare, genuine side of him that she was now sure few people even knew existed.

"Sounds like a nightmare to me." He chuckled, shaking his silvery head lightly.

"It's fun!" She contradicted him, watching his eyes throw her another look that seemed to be deeply judging her sanity.

"Your sense of what's fun is questionable, Bowman." He added, once again throwing her a skeptical look that somehow set loose another wave of uncomfortable fluttering inside her stomach. She was once again reminded of how tall he was, ho royal and powerful his sole presence felt. Was this how the Slytherins felt when sitting next to him at the Great Hall? If it was, it was certainly slightly intimidating.

She let out a laugh, shaking her head slightly. Her eyes traveled through the long arched corridor, out of the corner of her eyes watching him close his eyes and lean his head against the stone wall. For a split of a second she was about to ask him whether he was really all right, but decided against it. He had made it clear he did not want to talk about that anymore, so she dropped the subject entirely.

"Are you staying in Hogwarts for Christmas?" She did not know from where that question came from, watching him open one eye to throw her a questioning look.

"Certainly not." He answered as though the idea of staying in the castle for Christmas sounded scandalous to him. "Are you?"

"Dunno." She admitted, not having really put much though into it. "My dad will be traveling, so I'll either stay here or go spend Christmas with the twins. They have offered already."

"I don't know which option sounds worse." He smirked again as he spoke, and he would have yelled at him had not been for the way in which he was silently chuckling.

"You can be really painful to talk to, did you know?" She managed to snap at him, but he did not seem at all affected by her tone.

"It's a good thing we're not friends then." He shrugged, once again sounding disinterested in the topic of the conversation, even though his faint smile had not disappeared from his face.

She felt silent, deciding on turning her face away from him in a pathetic show of annoyance. Whether he took her seriously or not, she could not tell, not even seeming bothered or even noticing her exasperation, merely leaning his head back against the stone wall again and closing his eyes.

Long silence stretched comfortably between the two, the soft whistle of the wind the only sound filling the space. Every once in a while she would hear footsteps echoing throw a nearby corridor, but nobody walked into this particular courtyard. Just as she had assumed, all students must be huddled up in their common rooms, enjoying the rainy Saturday afternoon. She hoped the rain would stop by night time, not looking forward to trying to sleep if the rain continued for much, or if it became heavier. She still could not handle sleeping during rainstorms, no matter how long it had since been…

She turned her large brown eyes to study him, finding him still sitting there with his eyes closed, head leaning back against the wall. For a second she wondered whether or not he had fallen asleep, his long blond hair reflecting in silver at the flickering faint light that managed to filter through the curtain of rain outside.

"Are you all right?" She asked again, letting out a silent chuckle, amused at finding him nearly asleep on a school bench. For a moment, she did not believe he would answer, thinking to be fast asleep by the looks of it.

But the smile quickly vanished from her face as slowly, ever so slowly, his head shook from side to side: No. She froze, her heart skipping a beat as a new sense of alarm rushed through her veins. And then, she noticed, cursing herself for not being sufficiently observant before. Where his chiseled cheeks had been perfectly pale minutes before, now they were flushed bright pink, his breathing coming out slightly heavier. Immediately and almost automatically her hand flew to rest on his forehead, withdrawing it instantly as she felt the sudden heat emanating from his pale skin.

"You're burning." She breathed out in terror, even though he did not react to her words. But why had he not said anything? She had asked many times if he was all right. He had stayed silent. He should have said something!

Ice blue eyes met hers, looking tired, a strange combination of fear and alarm pooling oddly through those frozen crystals, for a second seemed to be debating with himself whether or not to speak. He looked momentarily terrified. But of what? Of the fever?

"I need to go to the Hospital Wing." He said at last, the words barely whispered, and she was instantly on her feet, helping him as he rose unsteadily to his full height, making her flinch at the waves of heat that seemed to be radiating from him. How was his fever so high so soon? It was if his temperature was rising at an alarming rate, making her wonder whether or not he would even manage to reach the hospital wing. It was not normal. Or had he been suffering from a fever all the while and had simply said nothing about it? It still seemed alarmingly high alarmingly quickly. It was unnatural. Something was wrong.

Here's chapter 13! Hope you enjoy it! And let me know what you think! I know the plot is slow but bear with me :)

Again thank you thank you to ErynielGreenleaf, Rose61393 and VanyaNoldo for your comments on the last chapter! They really mean a lot since I know this story is unusual and slightly strange haha it helps to know that at least you are enjoying it! :)

Love,

Elena


	14. Wait

"Oh, Dear!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed the second they had crossed the doors, the small witch hurrying in their direction, still carrying some sort of potion she had been about to put down. "Bring him in! Bring him in!"

Sigrid's heart drummed inside her chest like a caged bird, her mind racing in nerves, and she was barely aware that her hands still held tightly to Lasgalen's upper arm, guiding the taller boy into the room. He was as pale as a ghost, except for the bright flush on his hollow cheeks, breathing heavily. Even his icy blue eyes, those that always gave her the impression they could look right past her, seemed suddenly dazed, as if covered by some sort of fog. He was burning. She could feel the excessive heat radiating from his skin right underneath the heavy winter school robe from where her hand still held his arm.

Madam Pomfrey was at her side in a fragment of a second, so fast that Sigrid was left wondering whether the witch had managed to learn how to apparate inside Hogwarts. Immediately, the mediwitch had replaced her, reacting in a flash by taking Lasgalen's other arm, quickly guiding him to one of the beds. For a short second, Sigrid was left standing there, near the doorway, her breaths as shaky as her hands, trying to think on what to do, how to help. Could she even help at all? She had no idea how to proceed, her stomach a new ball of nerves and panic. She had never been good at emergencies! She never knew how to act whenever anyone got suddenly sick! It made her panic!

She took one steadying breath, telling herself to get it together, before following Madam Pomfrey closely behind. For the first time she noticed that, blessedly, the Hospital Wing was completely empty, except for a first-year Hufflepuff boy sitting upon a perfectly made bed, coughing dramatically into his fist.

"Go back to your dormitory, Goode!" Madam Pomfrey hushed exasperatedly, waving a hand in the air in a shooing motion, not even turning to glance at the boy. "You have nothing!"

The boy nearly jumped at the loud voice, giving one last dramatic cough before scurrying out of the Hospital Wing faster than a snitch. Sigrid shook her head quickly, trying to push back her momentary panic and focus on the situation. But what situation? She had no idea what was happening!

But Madam Pomfrey did. Sigrid had not missed the way in which the mediwitch had not yet asked a single question, moving quickly from one side of the bed to the other, muttering to herself in a voice so low and so quick that Sigrid was sure she would not be able to understand a single word even if she tried. And yet, what made her heart continue to race frantically and nearly leave her feeling out of breath was the evident sense of urgency visible in the small witch's face.

Madam Pomfrey had somehow managed to lie Lasgalen down on one of the beds, the back of her hand no pressed to the tall boy's forehead, eyes widening at the temperature she must have felt. For the first time since walking into the Hospital Wing, Sigrid ventured another glance at the Slytherin Seeker, immediately wishing she hadn't done it. He looked so different….so vulnerable. It was as if a bubble around that powerful royal figure she always pictured in her mind of him had suddenly burst. He was pale, far paler than she ever remembered seeing anyone, skin looking clammy with a sheen layer of sweat. His stunning, piercing eyes were shut tightly underneath a knitted brow, visible shivers running down his body. And he looked as if he was…..in pain? He must be, his jaw set tightly, teeth biting his bottom lip.

"Drink this, dear. All of it!" Madam Pomfrey ordered, her quick hands already placing a glass full of a nasty looking bright purple drink in front of Lasgalens' mouth, doing something with her wand she could not really see. Just when she had thought her presence had been forgotten, the mediwitch's popping eyes flashed in her direction, pinning her on the spot with a look that almost seemed to accuse her of being responsible for the situation.

"Get Professor Snape." Madam Pomfrey barked urgently, and she did not need to be told twice, nearly tripping on her own feet in her haste to dash from the room, her long school robes tangling on her legs.

Never before had she run so fast in her life. She could not tell why, but it was as if the urgent tone of the mediwitch had somehow made her follow her orders with a speed she would not have considered herself capable of achieving. Thankfully the corridors were mostly empty, the student's still probably celebrating and talking about the Quidditch match. Only two ghosts crossed her way, gliding away from her path just in time as to not walk right through her, throwing her nasty and disapproving looks.

She knocked on the small office door so quick she was oddly reminded of a woodpecker, her hand knocking as fast as her heart was beating. In seconds the door was abruptly pulled open, her hand left mid-air and ready for another knock, eyes lifting to find a pair of disgusted yet widely surprised coal black eyes looking down at her.

"Bowman?" Snape's cold voice questioned her, as if trying to put together what she was doing there, but she was too busy attempting to catch a breath to speak. Her lungs were burning.

"I…." She panted, desperately trying to get words out of her mouth while at the same time taking in heaving breaths. "Hospital W-wing….Lasgalen…"

She did not need to add anything else, it was as if the second those two words had left her mouth Snape was already moving, eyes widening with a jolt, nearly walking over her as stepped out of the office, slamming the door behind. She could not suppress her own surprise, her own nerves only getting worse, as it seemed evident that whatever it was that was happening Snape seemed to immediately know, the horror in his own black eyes not doing anything to help her panic.

And yet, before she could do or say anything, Snape's languid face had turned to address a portrait of a fat old wizard who had been looking irritably at his pocket watch, clearly listening to all of their short conversation. "Inform Professor Dumbledore. Immediately."

He did not even wait for the plump wizard to have disappeared from his frame, already hurrying in long steps towards the Hospital Wings, black robes swirling at his sides like bat wings. She rushed to follow closely, not sure on what else to do. She had not been asked to follow, but neither had she been asked to stay behind.

They nearly ran into Madam Pomfrey on their way in, the witch jumping in surprise with a hand flying to her heart. "Oh, it's you, Severus. I was about to go looking for you myself."

The mediwitch threw Sigrid a half-reproachful look, as if complaining that she had took too long in her simple task. But she had run the entire way going and back! How could anyone had expected her to go _faster_!? And yet, not a second glimpse was given in her direction, Madam Pomfrey already hurrying Snape towards the only occupied bed, her heart skipping a beat at the sight.

It was impossible. She had only been gone for minutes. Minutes! And yet her eyes were not tricking her, no amount of blinking changed what she saw. Thranduil Lasgalen was shaking from head to toe, his face scrunched up as if in agonizing pain. A frail thread of crimson blood trickled down his chin, from where his clenched teeth were brutally biting at his lip, muffled whimpers leaving his mouth against his will.

For a second she felt dizzy, her head swimming as her knees trembled when she walked closer to the bed, not knowing why but trying to offer any kind of comfort she could think of, even though her mind seemed blank at the moment. Neither the mediwith nor the Potions teacher were paying any attention to her, the latter now sitting at the edge of the bed, opposite from her, black eyes wide with fear.

"The fever is not going down." Madam Pomfrey muttered to Snape as she too reached his side, shaking her head as if thinking something to herself.

"It will not." Came Snape's answer, and she somehow got the feeling that the mediwitch already knew that, the latter hurrying to look through the stashes of flasks and potions covering the walls in an effort to find anything to do.

"Have you alerted Dumbledore?" The mediwitch seemed to be getting impatient, only making Sigrid's heart want to jump out of her chest, dread pooling inside of her, spreading through her veins like poison. Why was Madam Pomfrey not doing anything? She could cure everything! _Anything!_

"Yes." Snape had suddenly drawn his wand, pointing the tip lightly to Lasgalen's upper left arm, mouthing a long complicated incantation she could not hear.

A soft silvery glow emanated from the wand, like a water wave, traveling briefly around the Slytherin boy's arm, who instantly let out a cry of agony that made her blood run cold, the sound sure to haunt her in her dreams. He was shaking more now, uncontrollably, struggling to breathe between gritted teeth, pitiful whimpers still leaving his mouth. She could see his other hand frantically clenching around the sheets, as if trying to hold onto something, anything, and then fingers suddenly curled around her wrist, making her gasp and jump in surprise, not realizing just how close to the bed she had been standing. Lasgalen's grip was painfully strong, crushing her wrist with a force she thought would shatter the bone, not even seeming aware of what he was holding onto.

Snape had nearly jumped back, his face blanching, a new sense of urgency crossing through his usually hostile eyes, looking at the mediwitch intently. "He needs to be transferred, _now_."

"But, Dumbledore…." Madam Pomfrey started, suddenly looking as scared as Snape, her eyes glancing at the doors as if begging for them to suddenly open.

" _Immediately_ , Poppy." Snape barked again, and Sigrid tried to open her mouth, tried to wriggle her wrist free from Lasgalen's painful grip, but it was of no use, the fingers were wrapped too tightly.

"Did you not give him a pain potion?!" Snape demanded in a hurry, black eyes glancing at the shaking whimpering Slytherin who seemed completely unaware of anything that was happening around him.

" _Of course I did_." Madam Pomfrey hissed back, seeming momentarily offended that such a question would be thrown at her, as if she did not know how to treat her patients properly. "You know why you were summoned here Severus, and it is not because of my incompetence, no matter what you believe."

For a second she though he would jinx her for such comment, but the Potions teacher did not bother to move. The doors suddenly banged open, her heart once again skipping a beat in surprise, once again trying to wriggle her hand free, and once again failing. It was only partial relief what she felt as she saw the tall figure of Professor Dumbledore rushing into the Hospital Wing, his long silver beard glittering oddly at the flickering orange light of the torches.

"He needs to be transferred to St. Mungo's immediately." Snape spoke the second Dumbledore had walked in, rising to his feet and approaching the headmaster in a haste. "Should have been transferred an hour ago!"

"Calm down, Severus." Dumbledore's voice was like a warm gentle breeze in the middle of a storm, ever so patient and peaceful, even though his piercing blue eyes were sharp behind his half-moon spectacles. And yet, Snape had quietened, although begrudgingly, allowing the headmaster to approach the bed and take a look for himself.

"I will take him. No time to wait around." Was all that Dumbledore said, still strangely calmed, turning only once to address Snape. "Owl Oropher Lasgalen."

And with that, she saw the headmaster curl a hand gently around Lasgalen's left arm, the closest one to him, the Slytherin boy letting out another hoarse cry of pain. Her eyes widened, heart drumming at her throat, opening her mouth desperately the second she understood what was about to happen, free hand fighting frantically against the grip around her wrist.

"N-no-wait-I" She tried to speak, shaking her hand frenetically but it was too late. She felt herself spinning around wildly, feeling compressed, as if her body was being squeezed tightly from all sides, her head throbbing, and she was about to be sick….

Her feet landed clumsily on something hard, her body going out of balance as she stumbled in order not to fall, closing her eyes tightly against the spinning sensation that still swallowed her. It took her a second to realize that the hand gripping her arm was gone, her eyes flashing down to look at her wrist, now angry red, tiny cuts visible from where his nails had dug into her skin. She turned on her heels, trying to catch her breath, eyes searching frantically around her, only to find a group of wizards and witches in lime green robes hurrying away from her, carrying someone in a rush.

Her heart stopped beating, her stomach dropping, and for a second time that day she was sure she was absolutely going to be sick. She was no longer at Hogwarts. She was not inside the castle anymore. Panic rushed through her once more but she pushed it back, her mind too occupied on trying to find out what was happening to be concerned with being scared.

"Wait here, Bowman."

It took her a second to realize she had been spoken to, but when she turned her face to answer, Dumbledore was already rushing away through the long white corridor through which the group of wizards and witches had disappeared. So Dumbledore knew she had been accidentally brought along. At least she would no need to awkwardly make her presence known. And yet that did nothing to ease her shaking nerves, now finding herself alone.

She took a long steadying breath, eyes looking around her carefully, taking in her surroundings. She knew where she was, knew her destination even before her feet had landed on the hard floor. St. Mungo's Hospital. And yet the room around her felt completely strange. She had never been in the hospital before. Not even…. _then._

She was in a sort or reception area, or waiting room, she could not decide exactly which, seeming more like a combination of the two. The first thing she noticed was the bright white of the walls, seeming almost shockingly blinding, so…sterile. She stood awkwardly in place for a long moment, watching as a grey-haired witch dressed in horrible magenta robes and what looked like a large bird nested on her head tossed through some parchments behind a large wooden reception desk. A quill danced next to her, scribbling something rapidly on its own, a couple of papers folding themselves into tiny planes and zooming in and out of the room through a set of tall glass doors, the very same set through which Dumbledore had just disappeared.

A couple of feet away from the desk stretched a large sitting room, with countless tall-backed seats and sofa's all draped in purple velvet. There were only a few people sitting there, an old wizard who seemed to be carelessly eating through an entire pack of every flavor beans, and, some spaces away, a tall pointy nosed witch with a small sleeping girl on her lap, watching at the enchanted clock every two minutes. A couple of house-elves walked around the space, offering hot teas and other refreshments to those few sitting at the waiting room. Behind her back, and on a long empty wall, stretched at least seven large fireplaces, some of the them still flickering in weak green flames. Flu access, no doubt.

A faint _pop_ erupted from her right, her head flying in that direction only to find a frenzied looking witch nearly dragging a crying young boy by the arm in the direction of the grey-haired witch at the reception desk.

"Attacked by a garden gnome!" She heard the anxious witch exclaim to the receptionist, throwing a shushing look at the crying boy who clung to her skirts.

"That is the first floor, madam." The witch dressed in magenta robes spoke without lifting her eyes from the piece of parchment she was intently reading. "Creature-induced injuries."

"But my son needs a healer at once!" The witch demanded, trying to maneuver the boy who was now jumping up and down and begging to be held in arms.

"Creature-induced injures is on the first floor, madam." The receptionist repeated patiently, as if this was something she dealt with every day. "This is the fourth floor- Spell Damage- there's nothing we can do for your son here. Take him to the first floor."

The witch huffed indignantly, muttering something in a low voice as she lifted the crying boy into her arms, hurrying to a narrow corridor where she could see what appeared to be elevators. Not knowing what else to do, Sigrid made her way to the farthest purple cushioned seat she could find, feeling the size of the chair nearly swallowing her. At least nobody seemed to pay any attention to her, not a single pair of eyes turning in her direction. It felt oddly comforting, to feel invisible for a second. She did not even know what she would answer had anyone asked her why she was there.

It about twenty minutes later when another _pop_ echoed in the ample room, her eyes the only curious enough to lift up and gaze at the newcomer. A waterfall of long silver hair met her eyes instantly, the tall wizard already rushing towards the receptionist, not even bothering to look around him. Sigrid did not need to be told to know exactly who this powerful looking wizard was, only hunching lower on her seat almost instinctively, wishing to disappear. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the grey-haired receptionist lift her eyes once, her expression turning into a sad sympathetic smile as she too seemed to instantly recognize the wizard rushing in her direction.

"He's here." The witch dressed in magenta confirmed gently before Oropher Lasgalen could ask anything, as if already knowing exactly what would be asked of her. "We don't know anything yet, Mr. Lasgalen, sir. I'm sorry."

The silver-haired wizard nodded his head once, not even opening his mouth to speak, his presence feeling overwhelmingly powerful even in the spacious room, standing as tall and regal as his eldest son did. Sigrid had only seen this wizard in tiny photographs at the Daily Prophet, and could now confirm that he did indeed look more intimidating in real life. She squirmed on her seat, a safe distance from the reception desk, begging not to be seen, only feeling the slightest of reliefs when the tall regal looking wizard merely walked to another seat far from hers and dropped himself almost defeated onto it, hand covering his face. And in that second, all of his previous intimidating and scary presence seemed to crumble, her heart aching at the saddened look the receptionist was throwing him.

Still, she had not missed the exchange in between him and the receptionist, a pang of pain gripping her heart at the familiarity of it, for the first time becoming real to her that the Lasgalen senior was frequently seen here, waiting for Merlin knows how long in this cold room. She could nearly see the pages she had seen in Thranduil's file at Dumbledore's office again, the number of visits and the frequency of them suddenly becoming real, not a distant thing she had accidentally known about someone. One of the house-elves had silently walked towards Mr. Lasgalen, placing a hot cup of tea on a small round table next to him without needing to be asked, the wizard not even seeming to have noticed.

Her eyes lifted at the sound of approaching footsteps, only partially relieved at the sight of Dumbledore reappearing at the waiting room, his lilac robes matching oddly with the bright purple of the seats. The headmaster stopped by Thranduil's father, who had immediately risen to his feet, and for a second it was hard to tell which wizard was taller. They started talking lowly, too low for her to understand a single word that was being said, both wizard with expressions so perfectly controlled and serious. It took a few minutes before Oropher Lasgalen sat back down, leaning his elbows on his knees and hiding his face in his hands.

And then, Dumbledore was making his peaceful way towards where she sat, seeming to easily spot her, only making her want to shrink further into the cushions, to be back at the castle and at the Gryffindor tower with her friends, to pretend this had never happened, anything to free herself from those piercing blue eyes that seemed able to read her mind. And yet, Dumbledore did not speak, smiling faintly yet comfortingly at her before lowering himself on the seat next to hers. A long second of silence stretched, during with the headmaster merely picked out a magazine from a pile sitting at a nearby coffee table and started reading through it, appearing deeply interested in it.

"Professor?" She asked, her voice sounding like a pathetic squeak. Dumbledore's deep blue eyes gazed at her from above his magazine, where the witch in the front cover kept blowing kisses and winking at her. "Are we not heading back?"

She could not understand why was Dumbledore not taking her back to the castle yet, merely sitting here and waiting, even though in the back of her mind she already knew the answer.

"In a while, yes." Dumbledore answered calmly, and it occurred to her that this was the first time she was alone with the headmaster.

"What are we waiting for?" She asked again in that same hushed voice, knowing that nobody was close enough as to be able to listen to their words.

"We are waiting for news on your friend Lasgalen." Once again Dumbledore's voice was as casual as if talking about the weather, and she did not have to heart to clarify that they were not really friends. Not now anyway. "I like to know that my students will be fine, especially when I am the one to bring them here."

She nodded her head, momentarily not finding her words, playing nervously with a lock of her golden curls as she tried to organize her thoughts. "Will he be all right?"

"I hope so." The answer she received was so vague that for a second she wished she had not gotten an answer at all, her eyes dropping to gaze the intricate patterns of the rich carpet.

"Sir?" She asked again, her voice pathetically low, needing to ask her question before she lost her courage. "What happened to Thranduil Lasgalen?"

Her eyes almost instantly darted to look at Oropher Lasgalen, as if to see whether or not he could listen to their conversation, but found the wizard gazing distantly at the untouched cup of tea, not even seeming to be paying attention to what happened around him, lost to his own mind. She would not want to be him. And she was sure no parent would ever want to be in his place either.

"That, I am afraid, is not at my liberty to say." Dumbledore replied, looking strangely serious in contrast to the gleam in his piercing blue eyes, which were looking at her so intently. "I believe you could not find the answer to that yourself when you snooped at his file in my office?"

She was sure her heart had stopped, feeling her face turning red, no longer able to look at the headmaster's eyes. How had he known she had looked? But then again, how had she ever expected to think she had fooled him? Of course he would know.

"I am so sorry for that." She blurted out, unable to look out, never before feeling so ashamed of her actions. Why had she been so curious? And then, another thought suddenly occurred to her. Why had Dumbledore not done anything about it? Why had he not confronted her about it if he had known all this time? Why had he not given her proper detention or chastised her?

"Professor, why did you…?" She started, but once again it seemed as if Dumbledore had read her mind, those piercing eyes staring deeply through hers, smiling in a knowing way that made her feel awkwardly exposed.

"We all need a friend." Was all he said, fixing his eyes on the contents of the magazine once more, declaring the end of the conversation. "Even if only just one."

She did not ask anything else, not asking what the headmaster meant, merely looking at the dark haired witch ad the cover once again blowing kisses in her direction, and winking so much it seemed as though she had something in her eye. Her mind was reeling through so many questions. Why had Thranduil been in so much pain? And the floor they were in…it was the spell damage floor, but no spell had been cast on Lasgalen, not today at least…could it be an old spell? It seemed absurd to think so, but she could not think of anything else. And still, she worried, perhaps more than she believed she should have worried, begging for him to be all right.

She did not know how long they waited but it felt like hours. Dumbledore had already gone through three different magazines, while out of the corner of her eyes she could see that Oropher Lasgalen had not even moved. Two more wizards had apparated at the hospital, one with such a bad case of tongue twisting spell that had taken nearly half-an-hour for the receptionist to understand what it was he was saying.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she heard footsteps approaching the waiting room, her eyes turning to look as Oropher Lasgalen rose to his feet incredibly fast, meeting the Healer in deep green robes that had just emerged from the tall glass doors. Her heart skipped a beat as she immediately recognized that dark hair and silver eyes. It was Elrond. The twins' father. She had known he worked at St. Mungo's, being the head healer of the hospital and only attending the most important and severest cases. But then, why was he the one talking to Oropher Lasgalen?

"He's stable. It's controlled for now." She had to make an effort to hear Elrond's low voice, not even caring if Dumbledore was looking at her spying or not. The silver haired wizard's shoulders dropped with a sigh of relief seeming to be letting out a breath he had been holding. However, there was nothing relieving in Elrond's face, which still looked too serious, a thing that she knew the elder Lasgalen had not missed, and the healer continued informing.

"He was in a lot of pain this time, Oropher. It flared again. It's the second time it breaks through our healing spells this year alone. We've managed to halt it, but it is impossible to tell for how long this time. It is taking longer and longer to control it each time. We do not know for how long we will be able to restrain it anymore. It does not _want_ to stop, and it _will_ find a way, eventually."

"Is he safe?" Oropher's hissed voice was so low she nearly had to read his lips, his face a perfect stone mask that let nothing through, except for those penetrating eyes, which betrayed his fear.

"For now, yes, he is out of harm." Elrond added in a tone equally as quiet. "You may go in now. He is asleep."

"Thank you." Was all the silver haired wizard said, nodding his head once and hurrying through the glass doors that the healer still held open for him, as if not needing to be guided to a room, seeming to know exactly where he would find his son.

"Come, now." She nearly jumped at the soft sound of Dumbledore's voice, who was rising to his feet and motioning for her to follow, walking to the spot on which they had apparated hours before. "Things seem to be in order here. Take my arm."

She did as she was told, not looking forwards to the sensation she knew was close to follow. And once again she was being mercilessly squeezed from every direction, feeling about to suffocate, and just when she thought her bones would break, her feet landed once again on something hard, sending her tumbling down to the floor clumsily.

She blinked a couple of times, quickly getting back on her feet to notice that she was once again in the Hospital Wing, which was now completely deserted, expect for Dumbledore standing right next to her.

"I didn't mean to…" She started, wanting to explain herself, brushing dust from her robes in an attempt to busy her hands with something.

"Lasgalen had you pretty tightly by the arm, I know. You didn't do anything wrong, Bowman." She felt slightly relieved at the words, even though she still felt that odd horrible feeling in her stomach, which she could not tell whether it was fear or worry or nerves or what. "However, I would appreciate it, and I am sure your friend would too, if you were not to tell where you have been today."

"Yes, professor." She nodded her head, once again not knowing from where she was finding her voice. There were so many things that were even more puzzling now, so many other things to ask, feeling the shock of what had happened finally downing on her. And so she asked the only question that seemed important at the moment, the only one she really needed an answer to.

"Will Lasgalen be all right?"

"For now, yes." Dumbledore repeated nearly the same words she had heard the twin's father saying only minutes before, words that did not help at all. For now? What did that even mean? It only worried her more, wishing that the answer could have been a different one. And still there was something she could not understand.

"But why didn't they cure him completely?" She could not understand it. They cured everything at St. Mungo's didn't they? Especially Elrond!

"Ah." Dumbledore sighed as if pensively, that faint smile that seemed so casual always present on his lips, only infuriating her at how impossible it was to understand what he was thinking, throwing her one of those long pointed looks. "There are kinds of Dark Magic that are impossible to cure."

He knew. Dumbledore knew. He knew exactly what it was that was wrong with Lasgalen, and yet she knew she would not get any other answer than that. Still, it felt as if a poisoned claw had twisted her insides, once again wishing she had not asked, worry once again sweeping through her.

"Now, Bowman." Dumbledore started softly again, walking peacefully towards the Hospital Wing's doors, motioning for her to follow. "It is late already, and your friends must be wondering where you are. It is time for you to return to your dormitory, but remember that some things are delicate and it is better if word did not get around."

She nodded her head, not finding her voice, turning on her heels and starting her hurried march towards the Gryffindor tower. She would not say what she had seen, even if Dumbledore had not asked her to do so. She barely noticed that the sky was now pitch black outside the long arched windows, the empty hallways now lit with flickering torches. She felt as if in a daze, as if the Hospital and long wait and the silver haired wizard sitting pitifully on a seat in a corner had been memories from another life.

She reached the portrait of the fat Lady in no time, and had to yell the password three times because the Lady was so angry at having been woken up that was purposely not letting her through. Finally inside, she was surprised to find that the celebration for the Quidditch match had not yet ended, the Common Room full to the top of students jumping and yelling and cheering. Hands grabbed her by the arms, pulling her through the hole with many welcoming smiles and cheers.

"Sigrid!" She could hear Eddelina waving at her from a corner of the room, where she had been sitting with the twins who were laughing hysterically at something. She waved back only half-heartedly, not finding in herself the will to stay and join the celebration. It felt overwhelming now.

"Where have you been?!" Eowyn squeaked on her ear, her pale thin arms wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her deeper into the Common Room. Her best friend was smiling widely at her, seeming to be the heart of the party. "I have been waiting for you for hours!"

"I'm sorry." She apologized, trying to sound casual and yet immediately seeing in her friend's grey-blue eyes that she had failed to fool her. "I'm just tired. I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow, and you'll tell me everything of the match?"

She hurried up the spiraling steps, Eowyn following her closely behind, looking slightly concerned but not too alarmed. Sigrid reached the dormitory, which was blessedly empty- Saturna and Eddelina were still downstairs- Eowyn entering behind her and closing the door, drowning away the noise from downstairs.

"Are you all right?" Her friend asked, lingering by the doorway and seeming to be studying her, making Sigrid wear her best mask of merely tiredness.

"Yeah." She waved her off, throwing he school robes carelessly over her trunk and searching for her pajamas. "I'm just tired that's all. I don't feel like partying. How was the celebration anyway."

She was trying to appease her friend and even she could see it was not fully working, Eowyn knew when to question her and when to simply just play along and let her be. So instead, her friend answered her questions as she normally would, pretending to find nothing odd with Sigrid, even though her eyes still looked a little concerned.

"It was great!" Eowyn threw herself to sit on her bed, playing with Saturna's Pigmy Puff while Sigrid changed. "Nothing too out of the ordinary, although somebody let loose a Fanged Frisbee and it nearly ripped Julian's robes into pieces. You should have seen it! Everyone was so elated that we won! I still can't believe it! Even though the little Lasgalen caught the snitch. He's good but not as fast as his brother. I wish Lasgalen gets sick for the next match too, it would be incredible to win the cup this year!"

There had been no ill intention in Eowyn's casual cheerful tone, merely talking to her friend lightly, and yet she felt as if a painful clamp had been wrapped around her insides at her words, her mind flashing with images of the white waiting room, of the older Lasgalen brother squirming in pain at the hospital wing, burning with fever, and it was too much. It was too much.

"Don't say that!" She snapped at her friend, so uncharacteristically of her. But she could not help herself, no matter how innocent Eowyn's words had been intended, no matter that she knew her friend had no possible way of knowing that Lasgalen had been sick beyond her imagination. "Do not say that. That's a horrible thing wish."

"I'm sorry." Her friend apologized, suddenly taken aback, clearly not understanding from where Sigrid was coming from. "I'm really sorry, Sig. I didn't mean anything; I was talking about Quidditch."

"I know." She sighed, calming back down, and suddenly regretting her previous lash out. But it had been overwhelming. It was not Eowyn's fault. She did not know. "It's just me…I'm tired."

She didn't say anything else, climbing onto her bed and closing the drapes to the welcoming darkness, glad that Eowyn did not add anything else. She knew she would be questioned again in the morning, and she knew she needed to apologize to her friend for lashing out, but that could wait. All she wanted was to fall asleep, to not think, to feel far, far, away from that waiting room, from the Hospital Wing…

Here is the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it! I think it's a little longer than the previous one but once again I couldn't get myself to leave any piece out!

Thank you immemsely to Amsim, Rose61393, ErynielGreenleaf, and Win Lockwood. Thank you so much for leaving comments, it is amazing to know that you are enjoying this strange story!

Amsim: You are not too far in your suspicions but are not entire correct haha, I won't say anything else!

Love,

Elena


	15. Secrets

She dropped her bag on the floor, cringing slightly as she heard something crash at the bottom of it. Fantastic. She had probably smashed yet another quill because she always forgot to carefully pack them instead of just throwing them among her books. Letting out an annoyed sigh, Sigrid let herself drop on the uncomfortable little stool, absently watching as Eowyn carelessly threw her cauldron over the table.

Low murmurs of quiet chatter filled the dungeon's moldy and humid atmosphere, the students shuffling begrudgingly inside, slowly starting to take their seats. It was not even noon, and yet the greenish glow that swept over the windowless stone room made it feel as if the sun had set hours ago and would never rise again in the horizon.

"Why are the tables like this?" Elladan announced as he reached their side, narrowed silver eyes carefully eyeing the unusual arrangements before taking the seat directly next to Eowyn, and in front of Sigrid.

"'Dunno." She heard Eowyn shrug, as if she did not even want to know whatever it was that Snape had in store for them in this class.

The small wooden desks that filled the Potions classroom had been shifted around, now suddenly clustered in tables of four students instead of the usual pairs. It was odd, but honestly she did not even want to think about what they would be asked to do today. It would certainly not help her mood, which was already going sour just by being on this frigid haunting room.

"Where's your copy?" She piped up, glancing curiously at Elladan, who had arrived uncharacteristically alone, leaning back casually on his stool and crossing his arms with his particular mocking smirk.

"Sitting at the Hospital Wing with his tongue glued to the ceiling of his mouth." Elladan's eyes gleamed amusedly as his spoke, seeming to be making an effort not to burst into laughter at his younger twins' predicament. Eowyn erupted in laughter, and Sigrid was about to ask for more details but decided against it. It was better for her own sake not to know what was the younger twin doing that landed him that jinx.

Instead, she let her eyes dance across the classroom, flying over the crowd of Slytherin students currently taking their seats at the front tables. But he was not there. She had already known that, and yet she could not help but count the days, feeling as if she was the only student it the room who actually noticed his absence. But that was perhaps because she knew _why_ he was absent. Five days had gone by without him showing up for class, then six, then seven, then eight, and today nine. And yet she could not help but worry. Every time her eyes danced over the back of the Slytherins in the Potion's classrooms, over their emerald lined school robes, over their green and silver scarves, she could not help but being transported to that waiting room, to feel as if she should never had been there, as if she should never had known as much as she did now.

Eowyn had not asked her more details about that night, only accepting her excuse that she had been caught wondering the halls at night by Dumbledore, who had taken her to his office for a long lecture. She could tell her friend did not fully believed her, but did not press the matter. Although she could also tell that Eowyn was slightly resentful that she had not told her the whole truth.

"What would you like to do on Saturday?" Eowyn asked her, crossing her thin pale arms and leaning then over the table, her chin resting on the back of her folded hands. Her long golden waves fell loosely over her shoulders and draping over her books at the table, looking darker in the dim light of the dungeons.

"Saturday?" She narrowed her eyes in puzzlement, taking out her own cauldron and setting it in front of her. "This Saturday?"

"Yeah, of course _this_ Saturday." Eowyn rolled her eyes at her, a finger playing absently with her wand, rolling it this way and that over the table in boredom.

"But this Satruday's the Yule Ball?" She did not understand her friend's question, only feeling that she was clearly missing something as her best friend once again rolled her eyes, nodding her head as if making it seem that that precisely the point.

"Wait…" Eowyn suddenly sat up straight, grey-blue eyes scrutinizing her for a moment before widening as if in realization. "You're going?!"

"Well…yeah." She was confused now, eyes still narrowed at Eowyn's suddenly betrayed expression. Was she not supposed to be going to the Ball?

"Who asked you?" Her friend demanded almost immediately, and in a single second Sigrid felt her stomach drop in realization. Oh, Merlin, as if her day needed to get any worse.

After everything that happened that day, after the fear and anxiety at watching Lasgalen in the Hospital Wing then being accidentally dragged to St. Mungo's then trying to piece together what had happened, she had entirely forgotten to mention it to Eowyn that she had been asked to the Yule Ball. She did not care about those things. She would not have cared if Eowyn had not told her if she had been the one invited…..but Eowyn _did_ care. And she knew how her friend got whenever she felt she was being left out of something.

"Curtis Wills. I forgot to mention it. It was the day of the game, and we had won, and I forgot." She apologized, knowing that it would not help as her friend was already dropping her head once more on her hands, looking positively annoyed now.

"Right." She heard Eowyn breath out with a dry chuckle. "You _forgot_. Why bother to tell me anything anyway?"

She had to take a deep breath in order to not snap at Eowyn, deciding that it was better to avoid more conflict. She would have to wait until her friend dropped it. Even though it was infuriating. "I did forget. I'm sorry."

"You seem to forget telling a lot of things these days." Eowyn muttered sourly, turning her eyes to look away from her, and she once again had to force herself to take another deep breath. There it was. she had known it. Eowyn was still slightly pissed at her for not telling her where she had really been that day, and even though it made Sigrid want to strangle her, she partially understood her friend's resentment. She would have been angry too if Eowyn suddenly decided not to confide in her. They had never had secrets…and now for the first time she did. She did have secret now. A secret to keep even from her best friend.

"I simply forgot, alright?" Her voice betrayed more of her annoyance than she had wanted, but she could not have cared less at the moment, Eowyn's attitude challenging her patience.

"Sure." Her friend huffed, not even turning to look at her, leaving Sigrid to focus instead on harshly taking out the needed ink flasks from her bag, not caring at how she mishandled them at the moment.

"Why do you not go?" She managed to ask, her curiosity winning over the anger she felt towards her friend at the moment, not understanding why Eowyn wanted to do anything else than attend the Yule Ball when she had not been able to stop talking about it since the announcement.

"As if it even matters to you. Perhaps I will also _forget_ to mention it."

Sigrid had to take yet another deep breath, placing her tiny flask of ink so forcefully over the table that dark droplets spluttered all around messily, a few of them landing on her pristine white school shirt.

"Is it because nobody asked you and now you resent me because someone did ask me?" She instantly knew she should not have said that, knew that she would regret her words, that there had been no need for them, but she was currently so angry with Eowyn's attitude that she had not been able to hold them back.

"I _was_ asked to go." Her friend snapped bitterly in her direction, griping her wand so tightly that she accidentally sent sparks flying in Elladan's direction, who had to quickly disappear them with a flick of his own wand. "Beilby asked me a week ago. But I told him no, because I hoped that ' _he_ ' would ask me…but ' _he'_ asked _Agatha McClausky_ instead."

She did not ask who _'he'_ was, too angry with Eowyn to pretend that she cared at the moment. "Well, perhaps you should have said yes when you had the chance, instead of assuming that I wouldn't have been invited either."

"Do you want to go with me?" Elladan suddenly spoke, looking at Eowyn amusedly, as if he had suddenly got a genius idea, silver eyes waiting expectantly for an answer.

"Wha-" Eowyn was momentarily so surprised that she appeared to have forgotten her anger. Out of the corner of her yes she caught the last few students marching to their seats, and for the first time felt hopeful that Snape would arrive soon and start the class. At least that would mean forced silence as an excuse not to have to keep talking to Eowyn.

"I was hoping to ask Felicia Wills, but someone beat me to it….and I would much rather go with you than having to go with Eddelina. At this rate _she_ will be the one asking _me_." Elladan's silver eyes nodded almost scared and desperately in the direction of the quiet Gryffindor girl sitting on a nearby table, who had not stopped throwing glances in the elder twin's direction every chance she got. She was not bad looking, with her thick dark brown curls and large pale gold eyes, but she could tell why Elladan would not want to go with her. She and Saturna were inseparable, and while Eddelina was nice and fun to be around, Saturna at times could become insufferable.

"Okay." Eowyn let out a quiet laugh, too amused at Elladan's predicament, yet seeming relieved about having a date to attend the Ball, even though it was one of their best friends. "I'll go with you."

"Excellent." Elladan whispered with a grin, just in time as Eddelina waved at him from the next table, batting her thick dark eyelashes.

She was about to let out a laugh when another figure entering the dungeon with the last of the students caught her eye, making stones drop heavily on her stomach. He was back. His tall figure nearly glided inside the room, that cold regal aura of authority always surrounding him, his marbled face perfectly serious and composed, blue eyes as iced as the grounds outside the castle. She immediately looked away from the door, pretending she had not noticed him there, not wanting to catch his eyes even by accident, not knowing how she should react if she did. And yet, her insides only became heavier as she glanced with dread at the Slytherin tables ahead. They were all full, students already sitting in perfect groups of four. She made calculations inside her mind, noticing that had every student been present, one of the groups would have needed to be comprised of five instead of four, and he would have been able to sit with any of the Slytherins. But Elrohir was not here. And that left their table missing one.

"No." She heard Eowyn moan silently next to her, her eyes quickly noticing Lasgalen's tall figure starting to make his way to their table. She seemed to have done the same calculations as her, having figured out exactly where the Slythering Seeker was about to sit.

"I'm your partner." Elladan hurried to whisper quietly, huddling closer to Eowyn who was sitting exactly next to him, and knew what he was doing immediately. In case the potions were partner work as they usually were he had instantly made sure that she and Eowyn would not partner together – as they always did- and leave him to be Lasgalen's partner for the class.

Sigrid did not get a chance to say anything, her body feeling frozen as Thranduil Lasgalen elegantly took the seat directly to her right, completing their table of four. She did not know what to do. Should she say something? Should she ignore him? But she could not ignore him…or could she? Her eyes lifted in his direction almost tentatively, only to find him sitting perfectly straight, his silvery hair pooling in perfect strands down his back, looking away from her, as if she was not even there. And yet she could not help but notice that he once again appeared perfectly fine, nothing seeming to be remotely wrong with him.

"Open your books. Ingredients out." Snape's cold voice dragged through the dungeon, the wooden door banging closed behind him. She hurried to find her, book, eager to have something to occupy her eyes with. Should she have said something to Lasgalen? Should she have greeted him? Or should she pretend that she had never seen anything, that nothing had ever happened? She could not pretend that!

" _Polyjuice_ potion?" Asked a fiery haired Slytherin girl at the front row, who had been looking slightly confused at her book. Sigrid glanced down at the page in front of her, finding that the girl had not gotten the page number wrong. Indeed, the potion they were being asked to brew today was Polyjuice, the ingredients and instructions perhaps one of the most complicated she had seen.

"Isn't it supposed to be one of the most complicated potions to brew?" Questioned another student, this time a Gryffindor boy from the back row.

"It is, Mr. Vancil." Snape stretched every syllable, coal eyes sweeping over them from beneath curtains of greasy black hair. "Perhaps your clearly _limited_ mind has not allowed you to notice that it is the reason why you are today sitting in groups?"

Lance Vancil lowered his head almost immediately, as if not wanting to give Snape any reason to deduce points from Gryffindor with another of his questions, and the Potion's masters merely continued giving instructions. "You will brew one potion in groups of four, and since none of you are skilled enough to finish the potion in the limited time – it requires one month-, I will grade your work based on how well you manage to add and collect the required ingredients. Begin."

There was a collective grunt and displeased murmurs as students started to huddle their required ingredients. One table was even fighting over whose cauldron they should use to brew their collective potion, and she already knew that group work would not be pleasant today. Eowyn was still avoiding to look at her, and Laslagen's presence at their table did nothing to ignite any sense of wiling collaboration from Elladan, who at least seemed to be the only one at the table who would meet her eyes.

The elder twin was the one to get the water inside their cauldron boiling, and Sigrid let her eyes glance down once again at the long list of complex instructions. Unable to stop herself, she let out another glance at the tall figure sitting next to her, only to find his piercing ice blue eyes still fixed at the front, as if she was not even there, not even seeming about to offer his help for any work that needed to be done.

"Dan, you chop the fluxweed. Eowyn you can go fetch the knotgrass, while I can start with the bicorn horn." She took over dividing the work, as nobody in their table seemed to want to take charge. And yet it once again seemed the wrong thing to do, as Eowyns eyes turned to glare at her, still clearly angry.

"Why are you the one deciding what everyone should do?" Her friend added bitterly, and she watched as Elladan quietly set himself to chopping the fluxweed in silence, clearly not wanting to be a part of any conversation at the moment.

"Fine." Sigrid sighed in exasperation, sliding her open book in her friend's direction, nearly knocking a few flasks of ink in the process. "Then you decide what it is you would like to add."

Eowyn glared at her once more, completely ignoring her last words as she stood up and headed towards the large shelves were the rarest ingredients lay for students to grab as they needed, searching for the knotgrass. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Lasgalen's elegant hands starting to lazily shred Boomslang skin, deciding for himself what it was he wanted to do, not telling anyone in the process. She felt another bout of anger take hold of her, but managed to hold it off, concentrating herself on reading over the instructions again, at least to make sure that the ingredients got added to the potion in the directed order.

Next to her she could notice that they were not the only table not collaborating well, one of the groups of students far to one corner of the room were now fighting over who got to stir their potion. Still, knowing that other groups were not doing well either was little comfort. And yet her patience was only tested once more when she asked Eowyn to add the knotgrass onto the boiling cauldron. Once again her friend ignored her, pretending to not have heard her, and things only got more infuriating as Elladan then proceeded to add his fluxweed without Eowyn having added the knotgrass first.

"What are you doing?" Eowyn snapped at the elder twin, her finger pointing at the instructions on the book. "The knotgrass was to be added first!"

"Well you were not adding it! So I added my part!" Elladan replied, clearly not seeming to care whether or not they got the potion right this time.

"Can I burrow your knife?" She asked Lasgalen, who she had now noticed had long ago finished perfectly shredding the Boomslang skin and was once again sitting with his cold eyes fixed on the front, as if making it clear that his part was done and did not intend doing anything more. Still she knew that if she asked Eowyn for her knife, her friend would not speak to her, and Elladan was currently using his.

Ice blue eyes did not turn in her direction, as if he had not even heard her, only sitting regally there, perfectly calmed. And it enraged her, not understanding what he was doing. Was he pretending he did not know her? That they had never spoken?

"Can I burrow your knife?" She repeated her question, a little stronger now, not intent in letting him ignore her like that. It was enough that Eowyn was already not speaking to her. And then he turned to look at her, icy eyes so cold that she felt as if she was actually freezing, so hostile, burning through her with venom. And then, without a word he slid the knife in her direction, turning once again to gaze at the front, not saying a single word to her.

She swallowed once, regaining herself before continuing to go through the ingredients, deciding to pretend as if he was not there, as if his eyes had not just glared at her with such fury. Elladan had noticed the glare, his eyes now looking at her questioningly, throwing burning glares of his own at Lasgalen when the later could not see.

"Why are _you_ not helping?" She heard Elladan suddenly hiss in Lasgalen's direction, silver eyes burning with ire, only to meet the cold disinterested look of the Slytheirn Seeker, who was not even bothering to add his share of ingredients into the now bubbling cauldron.

"It's not worth it, Dan." Eowyn muttered into Elladan's ear, as if barely just stopping the elder twin from starting a fight with the silver haired Slytherin, and for a moment she felt like standing up and yelling at everyone. Yelling at Eowyn for not speaking to her, at Elladan for she did not even know what, and at Lasgalen, especially at Lasgalen for his angered stare, his insuferable presence and authoritative attitude, as if he was above them all, not even bothering to help or even acknowledge any of them. It infuriated her. Why was he doing that? Why did he keep being so intent in giving more reasons for everyone to hate him? And then when he was caught alone at times he could be a completely different person, someone actually not too bad to hang around with. But she knew he was angry with _her_. And she could guess why. It was because she _knew_. Because she had _seen_ him at his weakest.

She suppressed her urge to yell, forcefully stirring the potion only to be tested once more as Eowyn snapped almost immediately.

"You are stirring in the wrong direction."

"I'm doing it as the book says." She was losing her very thin patience now, stirring so fast the potion was starting to spill at the sides.

"It's supposed to be one clockwise and three counter-clockwise. You're doing everything clockwise." Eowyn corrected her smugly, and she was even more annoyed to find out her friend was right.

"Then you do it!" She snapped in return, and she had never in her life been more relieved as Snape used that precise moment to announce "Time's up".

Eowyn jumped to her feet almost instantly, throwing her book and things back into her backpack in a rush, hurrying out of the room with the first batch of students exiting. Elladan looked at her with apologetic eyes and a raised eyebrow, as if questioning whether or not she would follow her friend, but she merely shook her head in silence, closing her book to harshly she could almost imagine the look Madam Pince would have given her had it been a library book.

"I'll go then." Elladan sighed, gathering his stuff and following the raging Eowyn, and it was her turn to throw him a sympathetic look. He would not have much luck in talking her friend out of her anger at the moment. But at least he would try.

The crowd of students was starting to leave the dungeon, cauldrons left bubbling disgustingly over the tables for Snape to examine them closely later. It seemed that only one table of Slytherins had managed to work together without causing at least one discussion or fight, and she wondered it was because one them had simply been too intimidating to argue with, managing to lead the students at his will.

"Is that what you will do now? Ignore me?" She whispered in an angry hiss at Lasgalen's elegantly sitting figure, who had not even bothered to turn to look at her again, still peacefully gathering his things and stowing them onto his schoolbag.

She let out a sigh, not knowing what to do, wanting to leave the room and yet not able to pretend that she had never seen anything, that she had not been worriedly glancing at the Slythrins every Potions class if only to find out that he was back again at the castle and no longer in St. Mungo's.

"Here." She said coldly, once she realized he would not be speaking to her, fishing out from the bottom of her bag the long parchments of detailed notes that she had copied for him on every class he had missed.

She felt stupid now. Stupid for having taken the time to copy her notes for him, labeling them neatly for him to be able to understand them clearly. She should have just let him do the work of copying them himself if he needed them. Why had she thought that helping would be well received? She now felt angered with herself and angered for even using her time in tasks to help him, having though that he would probably be too busy with also catching up with his other classes as well.

She placed the neat collection of notes in front of him, along with a long essay she had bothered herself to complete. "The notes from the days you missed. And the essay we have due tomorrow morning. Thought you might not have time to write it, you don't have to use it if you want to write one yourself."

She was about to stand up when his face turned, ice blue eyes glaring at the collection of parchments with such intensity that she though they would burn, and then he harshly pushed them away, sliding them back in her direction before he stood from the stool, ice blue eyes piercing through her mercilessly.

"I don't need your _sympathy_." His voice dripped ice, so harsh she nearly winced, and then he was walking out of the room, joining the retreating crowd of Slythrins.

The rest of her day did not get any better. Even lunch at the Great Hall was a painfully silent meal. Eowyn still refused to speak to her, choosing to sit next to Elladan during Transfigurations and leaving her no other option that to take the only vacant seat next to a show-off Ravenclaw boy who corrected her every move. She had already tried to apologize for what felt like the thousand's time but Eowyn would not hear it, and she quickly got tired of trying.

And, as if that was not enough she could still not shake out of her head how poisonous and cold Lasgalen's glare had been that morning during Potions. She should have guessed it. Should have guessed he would not react kindly to having been seen in such a vulnerable state as she had seen him. And still it infuriated her, for she had not deserved such treatment, had not deserved such rage. She had done nothing! Nothing had been her fault!

Therefore, she found herself making her way towards the library that night after dinner, eager to escape from everyone and be solely by her own. She most certainly did not want to go to the Gryffindor tower, where Eowyn would continue to ignore her either in the common room or up at their dormitories. Her footsteps echoed through the empty stone hallways, shadows dancing eerily at the torches flickering light. It did not take her long to find the large wooden doors that led inside the library, which creaked as she gently pushed them open.

The bright light from the grand fireplace met her eyes, welcoming her inside. As usual, Madam Pince did not lift her eyes from the book she was reading, not bothering to look at the newcomer. She could almost feel the rush of peace washing over hear as she stepped over the ornate carpet into the silent space, eyes dancing over the empty tables.

But they were not all empty. Her insides tied in sudden anger as she noticed that tall elegant figure sitting as his preferred table, in the darkened corner by the large window. He had not noticed her, his eyes lost in the piles of books that laid open over the table in front of him. The bright light from the full moon fell over his hair in silver gleams, making his hair and skin look paler than they were.

She was about to turn around, debating whether or not to simply leave, anger now starting to boil inside of her again, remembering his hostile glare, his cold demeanor. But of course he would be here. Of course he had many things to catch up with, why had she not thought of that before coming? And yet, something had snapped inside of her, her anger finally overflowing to a point in which she no longer cared, and she did not know whether it was because of the undeserved treatment he had given her before, or if it was because of the anger she still felt towards Eowyn, or whether it was because she had had a terrible day on the whole. And nevertheless, she was walking, taking long determined strides in his direction, who had not even noticed her presence yet.

She reached his table in a flash, his cold blue eyes looking up in slight surprise as she suddenly dropped the set of notes she had offered him in class over his open books, her brown eyes glaring furiously at him. He opened his mouth to speak, icy eyes still piercing through her but she beat him to it, her voice an impatient hiss.

"Take the notes." She ordered furiously, not looking away from his cold gaze, speaking in an angered rush. "I don't know _why_ you are so angry with me, but _you_ asked me at the beginning of the year for notes to pass Potions, which makes me believe you _care_ about passing. I don't see anyone else offering you any helping hand, so whether you decide to use my notes or not, I will not have you later blaming my lack of help for Snape deciding to fail you. It's not _sympathy_ , it's the help you _need_. So if it is your _pride_ I'm hurting, _swallow_ it and accept the help. Neither you nor I had any control over what happened nine days ago, so do not lash your anger at me for being there."

Ice blue eyes continued to gaze at her, impenetrable, piercing, and for a long moment of silence she was left standing there, in front of his regally sitting figure, trying to catch her breath from her angered outburst. And then, unexpectedly his eyes shifted down, as silent and unreadable as they always were, yet no longer hostile.

"Dumbledore told me what happened." His quiet words made her anger suddenly vanish taken aback by them, for a moment not knowing what to say. Dread pooled at her stomach as she realized how much she had hoped that he would not remember she had been at St. Mungo's as well, hoping that he only knew she had been at the Hospital Wing. "I know you were there. I dragged you there when we dissapparated."

She nodded her head, swallowing once, speaking quietly again. "I haven't told anyone."

"I know." Was all he said, his voice no longer cold, no longer hostile. And then his eyes turned to inspect the notes she had thrown in front of him, taking the essay in a slender white hand and reading through it curiously.

"Gillyweed?" ice blue eyes turned to question her underneath an arched eyebrow, noticing the topic she had decided to write about. "Of all the herbs and plants to be used for Potions, you had to pick _Gillyweed_? Could you not make me sound more creative?"

It was as if something had lightened in the air, a heavy weight suddenly lifted, and oddly she found her mouth curving up in a faint smile, throwing him a warning glance. There it was again, that part of him without that horrible cold shell around, the part he kept so concealed and nobody ever got to see. "You can write it yourself if you're going to complain about the one I wrote you. It's due tomorrow so I don't think you'll have much time to finish it seeing how long it needs to be."

"Hmm." Was all he said, eyes continued to inspect the paper, even though there was no longer anything cold in his expression. "And did you know you also have many spelling mistakes? Do you wish for me to lose points because of that?"

"I wasn't about to write you a better essay than mine." She retorted, watching as unexpectedly his lips curved up in an oddly friendly smile.

"I guess not." He added, one of his hands inviting her to sit in front of him, and she did, feeling strangely welcome.

"Do you feel better now?" She could not hold her question, even though she felt as if she was threading into dangerous waters again, but still it felt as though she had already crossed some barrier line, where going back would not be as easy as it seemed. She was in it. She knew about it, whatever it was, and he was aware that she knew.

"I do." He admitted, even though it surprised her that he answered her at all, his hands carefully placing the notes she had given him on his schoolbag. He definitely looked better, looked as if nothing had ever happened.

"Are you all right?" She asked, for long seconds her brown eyes bore into his watchful ice blue ones, seeming to perfectly understand her question, knowing that did not merely mean are you alright _now_.

"No." Came the answer she had ben dreading to hear, but felt as if she already knew, his eyes not looking away from hers, strangely open, not cold, even though still impossible to read through.

"Are you going to _be_ all right?" Her voice came out as merely a whisper this time, studying his marble face in silence, wishing for his answer to be yes.

"No." He answered again, and she felt as if something inside of her broke, lowering her head to look at her lap, golden curls falling over her shoulders to frame her face.

"What exactly happened?" She finally voiced the question that had been nagging her mind, watching as he looked at her for long seconds, as it trying to decide whether or not to speak, yet strangely not pushing her away. He opened his mouth once, then closed it immediately again.

"I thought we were not friends." He finally spoke one eyebrow arching high on his forehead, and she could not help but let out a light laugh. Outside the window, a mound of grey clouds washed over the full moon, making the frail light diminish, the darkness surrounding them increasing.

"I'm willing to change my mind about that if you are too."

"Can we go somewhere else?" He suddenly asked, his ice blue eyes throwing a glance at Madam Pince sitting quietly at her desk far away, clearly not wanting anyone to listen to whatever it was he about to say.

She nodded her head, waiting patiently for him to pack his mound of books back into his bag and throwing it over his shoulder before they were both walking out of the library. It was not late enough for them to get in trouble for being in the hallways, but she was nevertheless glad that nobody crossed their path.

"Should we go to the Quidditch Pitch?" She suggested as she caught sight of the six goal hoops at the distance when they passed one of the castle's large windows, knowing that there would be nobody there, but he shook his head.

"I shouldn't go out in the snow." Was all he said, but she did not question him further, allowing him to lead the way instead.

He led them instead to the seventh floor, and she finally realized where they were headed as a large wooden door suddenly materialized out of the stone wall. The Room of Requirement. Of course. It made sense that nobody would find them or hear them there. He opened the door and let her in first, closing it shut behind him. The room that had materialized was a cozy round room, with a bunch of comfortable seats and couches arranged neatly to the sides. Long arched windows had appeared around the room as well, giving a perfect view of the grounds below, making the space unexpectedly airy.

She chose to sit at the floor, where a bunch of cushions had also appeared, finding them more welcoming and casual than the high-backed chairs. He imitated her, lowering himself elegantly next to her, his eyes lost to the front, not saying a word, long minutes of silence engulfing the peaceful warm room. And it the occurred to her that he did not know how to start, that perhaps he never shared this information with anyone.

"I…"He started, seeming to have difficulty in formulating words at all.

"You don't have to tell me." She changed her mind, suddenly realizing that it was not an easy thing for him to say, and that perhaps she should not be asking him to do so, but he ignored her, his eyes fixed on the legs of a nearby couch as he spoke, not looking at her anymore, sitting so tall and regal that she almost felt small.

"I get sick easily." He started, his voice slow, and so low she could barely hear it, eyes not once turning to look at her. "Anything that could cause a fever _will_ cause me a fever…..and it…can get out of control….can spike easily….and trigger….other things…"

He seemed to be trying to explain, but did not seem able to find a way to make it clear without mentioning things that he was clearly still holding back. And she was confused, not understanding what he was saying, but not asking for more details.

"No...I don't really _get_ sick easily….." He went back on what he had said, as if stressed to find a way to put it into words, visibly struggling. " _It makes_ me get sick easily…..and then it gets out of control….sometimes…."

His voice was trembling, his body so tense that she cursed herself for ever asking to him explain in the first place. And yet she could see that tingle of fear cross his ice blue eyes, concealed, and far away, yet there, as if merely talking about it was making him relive things he did not want to remember. He had his hands clutched tight together, not even seeming to have noticed, fingers gripping at each other hardly, knuckles white.

'You really don't have to tell me." She hurried to add, but he shook his head once more.

"Whether you know what it is or not, it will not stop _it_ from happening." He said in that low whispered voice, eyes still not meeting hers. "And I could use a friend who knows about it."

For a second she wanted to ask why had he never told any of his Slytherin friends before, but did not voice her question, letting her eyes lose momentarily over the piles of bright scarlet cushions lying on the warm stone floor.

"I don't know how to talk about it." He finally admitted, his voice shakier than before, and for a moment she thought he was seeing ghosts, things he did not want to bring up, to remember.

"Why don't you tell me what happened that day, after the Quidditch match, and we can start from there. I can ask questions if I don't understand, and you don't have to answer them if you don't want to." She suggested as a way to help, and was slightly surprised when he nodded his head, eyes dropping to his hands as he started speaking again.

"I had a cold that day." He started, still not looking at her. "And it turned into a regular fever which immediately triggered _it_ because of the raised temperature, and then it spiked into the fever you witnessed, and _it_ flared awake again…and I had to be taken to St. Mungo's to control it again."

"What is _'it'_?" She asked, her brown eye searching his face patiently, looking at his somber pale features, handsomely high cheekbones and pointed chin, the white light floating like a suspended ball below the ceiling casting elegant shadows on his form, and for the first time he turned to look at her, careful, studying her closely. He seemed to be trying to be making a decision, one that seemed unusually hard, and she waited patiently.

" _If_ I tell you…"He started, his voice careful, slow. "You will not _pity_ me?"

"No." She promised, looking straight into his eyes. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to. But if you do, I won't pity you. But _if_ you choose to tell me, you will not lash out and be angry at me just because I know? Like you did today?"

He swallowed once, nodding his head briefly in agreement, eyes turning away to look at the distance, as if finding interest in the vast views stretching out of the night-lit windows. And then he spoke, his voice dropped low, trembling as it left his throat, yet clear.

" _Fiendfyre_."

She froze, her heart sinking painfully, eyes silently still fixed on him, who did not turn to look at her. Cursed Fire. She knew about it. Had heard about it. And so many things suddenly made sense, things that she now wished would still remain senseless. The sudden fever, the fear and alarm in Snape's and Madam Pomfrey's eyes. Cursed fire never stopped burning. And if it had touched him…he should not even have lived. If he had been burned by cursed fire….he should not have been able to tell the tale.

Elrond's words flashed inside her mind once more, remembering what the healer had said. It had been hard to control. It did not want to stop. If the fire had touched him, and he had miraculously lived through it, the cure was in him, and it would keep on burning. And her heart sunk further in fear as she realized things that perhaps she had not been prepared to know. It was a futile fight. The only hope was to control the curse from keeping on burning, to keep it dormant and restrained…and of course he got sick…the curse was in him…any rise in temperature would make it flare, it _wanted_ to burn, it would _cause_ temperatures to rise…and the _pain._ She shuddered, even though she did not show it. The _pain_. He had been _burning_ , even though whatever spells the St. Mung's healers had managed to cast to concealed the burned skin from view, as he looked fine to the eye. If the curse had flared awake, and threatened to free from its restraints….he _had_ been burning. Quite literally. And if the curse managed to free itself from its restrains, to burn uncontrolled, it would kill him. There was no doubt to it.

And so many other pieces were falling into place, pieces that she had not even given second thought. His preferred table by the window at the library…it was not the window he liked, but the fact that it was farthest from the fireplace. The cold rain that he had so desperately been trying to reach that night he had been so frightened, why he had let it slip accidentally that he felt safe in the Slytherin dormitories knowing the lake, the largest body of cold water around, was floating above his roof. And that tiny bite during detention….of course. It was his arm. Whatever other parts of his body the cursed fire had touched, she was sure it included his left arm and hand. If the tiny bite had landed on one of the concealed burns, the pain must have been unimaginable….And she did not need to ask him when it had happened, how long had he had to live with that danger coursing through him, threatening to end his life at any moment. She already knew the exact date. _June 6, 1996_. What she did not know was how and why it had happened, or who had cast such dangerous Dark Magic in the presence of a four-year-old…..

Here's chapter 15! More questions answered and a big part explained, but more things still to find out. I hope you enjoy it! Even though it is a little longer.

Again thank you so much for your comments on the previous chapter, I'm sure some of you might have already guessed what it was that was wrong with Thranduil hehe, thank you so much for taking the time to let me know your thoughts on the chapter! And I hope this one is fun to read too! : Rose61393, Eryniel Greenleaf, VanyaNoldo22, Amsim and Win Lockwood

Love,

Elena


	16. Yule

"Which do you think looks better?"

Sigrid lifted her gaze from her trunk, quickly finding Eowyn standing by her, holding two silver bracelets that to her eyes looked nearly identical. But she knew better than to point out how similar they were. Her friend had already changed, her long bright turquoise dress robes cascading down her figure and touching the floor at her feet, the color making her long golden waves look paler.

"That one." She made up a choice without really paying much attention, using her finger to point at the bracelet on Eowyn's right hand. Her friend looked at it for a long moment, seeming to be closing analyzing it before her eyes.

"No, I think I'll wear the other one. I like that one better." She added, dropping the now discarded bracelet on the little drawer of her bedside table and proceeding to carefully clasp the other around her thin wrist. Sigrid rolled her eyes, shaking her head lightly but deciding it was wiser not to say anything about it. Why ask her if she had already decided?

Instead, she dug her arms deeper into her messy trunk, having to scurry through many items before finally reaching her own little wooden jewelry box. She picked it out carefully, making her way to sit on her four-poster bed, opening it carefully. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Saturna questioning Eddelina madly about how to best do her hair. Both of the girls were already changed as well, and although Saturna's dress robes sparkled in a bright pink that called too much attention, Eddelina's burnt scarlet robes made her look more beautiful than her friend, especially in contrast with her think black curls which fell down to her waist.

Sigrid let her eyes focus once more on the little jewelry box, looking at the few collection of bracelets, a little necklace and a couple of rings and…aha! There it was. Her pale hands carefully took out a delicate hair pin, the silver shaped in a perfect orchid, with tiny pearls adorning the center. They were not real pearls, but that did not matter. She doubted any of the jewelry worn today would be real – except of course for a few Slytherin girls, who would most probably drip in them, boasting about their family's fortunes.

"Do you still want me to braid your hair?" Eowyn chimed in from her own bed, and she quickly nodded her head, feeling the shift in the mattress as her friend moved to sit behind her, taking her long golden curls in her hands expertly. Mercifully her friend had finally forgiven her for not telling her she had been asked to the Ball. It had taken a lot of apologizing from her part and a whole day where Eowyn had not spoken to her. But it seemed that the Yule Ball could lighten any mood.

"Do you think _he_ will dance with me tonight?" Eowyn's voice sounded way too excited at the prospect, her hands expertly trailing down Sigrid's long golden curves, braiding in a single long complicated plait down her back. She still had no clue who he was, but knew that asking that would mean a glare at her lack of attention in previous days, so she once again decided to ignore it.

"Didn't you say he was going with Agatha McClausky?" She pointed out, trying to find an innocent way of indirectly reminded her friend that whoever she was interested in clearly already preferred another girl.

"Ow!" She exclaimed at the tug she received on her braid for the comment, it was not painful but she got the point, Eowyn's eyes glaring at her momentarily. "There was no need for that!"

"I don't see what _he_ sees in her." Eowyn muttered, but this time Sigrid did not answer. She really did not wish for her hair to be pulled again, even if it had been playfully, so she let her friend lead the conversation instead. Besides, she had other things to worry about, her stomach already twisting painfully in nerves as her mind wondered freely, dreading and at the same time anticipating the Yule Ball.

"At least we now know that Curtis Wills likes you." Her stomach tied all the more painfully as Eowyn whispered in her ear, too low for either Eddelina or Saturna to hear. And no matter how much she tried, she could not return Eowyn's excited grin, her grey-blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

She could not name how she felt, only that she would rather not feel this way, nerves and anxiety already taking the most of her. Accepting Wills invitation had seemed like a good idea at the moment. He was nice, and fun, and she would definitely have a good time. But now, as it got real, as it downed on her that he would be waiting for her down at the Entrance Hall within minutes and she would be forced to make small talk and dance with him for the night, she felt as if she wanted to run.

"Done." Eowyn announced all too soon, and she begrudgingly rose from her bed, walking to the long mirror placed in one corner of the room. She hardly recognized the image that met her eyes, having to move a little if only to remind herself that it was indeed her reflection. She looked beautiful, her long dress robes falling in layers in a pale lilac, embroidered in silver thread in soft patterns near the hem and down her back. Eowyn had definitely outdone herself with the braid, making it look surprisingly thick, some curls poking out softly from it.

"That color looks nice on you, Sig." Eddelina smiled at her from her right, and she added a quick 'thanks' in return, feeling a little sympathy for the ever-patient girl who was now listening to Saturna's endless complains on how her hair was not remaining in place no matter how many fixing spells she used.

"Help me with this?" She asked Eowyn, who had made her way to stand beside her, also inspecting her reflection in the mirror. Eowyn too looks stunning, probably more than any of the other Gryffindor girls. She held up the little hairpin with the orchid, handing it to her friend to place it somewhere on her braid.

"Just one?" Eowyn's eyebrow rose high on her forehead, and she was about to open her mouth in protest when her friend was already muttering something with her wand, making equal copies of the pin appear suddenly out of nowhere. "We should make a headband of these."

She opened her mouth to say no, to say that one would suffice…but then again, the more she thought about it, a headband of little silver orchids would look very nice. And she wanted to look nice. She wanted to look beautiful, even if she knew there would be no matching _her_.

Seconds later she found herself descending the spiraling stone steps down into the cozy common room, next to Eowyn. Unsurprisingly, the room was already full of students ready to head down to the Great Hall, and yet it felt so different to watch the dazzling bright colors where there usually were only black school robes. Elladan and Elrohir were already there, waiting for them, looking as identical as ever.

"Shall we?" Elladan spoke first, walking a couple of steps forward to meet them, offering his arms for Eowyn to take. The elder twin was wearing dress robes of the darkest of blues, the color making his eyes look even more silver, long dark hair falling in a perfect waterfall down his back and shoulders. The hem and sleeves of his robes were embroidered in soft intricate patterns of gold thread, reflecting beautifully on the flickering red firelight as he moved. She watched Eowyn take a long amused look at him, her eyes falling onto his offered arm, raising an eyebrow as her lips threatened to break into a concealed teasing grin.

"You're my date for tonight. Act the part." Elladan reminded her, throwing her a pointed look, and Eowyn finally shook her head, letting out a small laugh as she accepted the offered arm, seeming to be having too much fun.

"Let's head down." Elrohir spoke, also letting out a mocking laughter at his twin, starting to lead the way through the crowded common room and towards the portrait hole. The younger twin wore dress robes of a deep emerald, embroidered in patterns similar to his twin's, except that his were in silver thread. And for the first time she was glad that the twins wore different colors. Not that she had trouble telling them apart, but at a crowded Great Hall with nearly half of the school moving around, it would definitely make things easier for everyone.

The way down to the Entrance Hall was also full of Gryffindor's leaving to tower huddled in groups, talking animatedly between them, all dressed in their finest. And soon they were descending the large marble staircase, watching the mass of students already assembled in the Entrance Hall, ready to enter the Great Hall, waiting for friends or dates to join them. The sight was impressive. There were so many colors, dress robes in all styles and patterns and shades, the girls sporting their hairs in so many ways it was slightly dazzling, one Slytherin girl even wearing a silver tiara.

And still her stomach tied all the more painfully, nerves wracking her frame mercilessly, and she forced her eyes not to look too much through the crowd. It would be overly awkward and strange. She rarely ever spoke with Wills! Was he even here already? The thought of that made her want to hide behind Elrohir, so that she would never be found.

"There she is!" The younger twin suddenly exclaimed, not even saying goodbye to them as he hurtled down the stairs nearly two steps at a time- and yet too gracefully- making his way through the crowd of students towards a small group of Ravenclaws. Her eyes found Sofina Wyne easily, the Ravenclaw Chaser smiling almost shyly as Elrohir reached her side, quickly accepting his offered arm. She looked pretty, with her pale baby blue dress robes matching the exact color of her large eyes, perfectly straight hair pulled back in a neat elaborate ponytail. And yet, what made her laugh was Elrohir's ecstatic expression as he led the tiny Ravencalw girl inside the Great Hall, at least one of her friends would definitely have a night to remember.

"Bowman?"

A familiar deep voice called form behind her just as they had reached the crowded Entrance Hall, and she turned around, feeling her heart skipping a beat in nerves. Curtis Wills was standing right before her, tall as he was, towering nearly half a head above her. He looked handsome, wearing elegant deep violet robes that looked so dark they could pass for black in dim light. And she instantly felt like cursing her luck and wanting to run back to the Gryffindor tower and change. Of all colors, he was wearing violet. They matched.

"You look beautiful tonight." He said, and she could tell by the look on his stunning pitch black eyes that he too was nervous, quickly adding. "Not that you don't look beautiful every day also. What I mean to say is that you look particularly beautiful."

She could not force back a little laugh. Merlin, there it was again, the non-stop flow of words when he was nervous. And yet, it somehow helped to ease her own nerves, silently accepting his arm, a thing that for the moment made him calmer, standing tall and handsome next to her.

"Should we go in?" He asked, his voice surprisingly a little more controlled, a little more at ease, and she nodded her head, relieve to find out that she was not the only one too nervous that night.

And yet, as they made their way through the crowd and towards the large open doors of the Great Hall, she caught sight of a large group of Slytherins coming up the large marble stairs that led to the dungeons. Instantly, she felt her heat freeze, her body almost going rigid. It was easy to find him, his waterfall of silvery hair always standing out in nay crowd, standing taller than his fellow Slytherins. And she was suddenly reminded that it had not been Curtis Wills the one to have her so nervous and anxious about coming in the first place. It was him, him and those ice blue eyes of his that seemed to pierce through everyone he looked at, so impenetrable and unreadable. His silvery blue dress robes swayed at his feet as he moved, trailing behind his steps, the fabric looking expensive, exquisite.

And there it was again, that green monster, that feeling she could not explained yet hated beyond anything else, appearing the second her eyes found the stunning girl walking by his arm. Alexis Sonnet. She wished she could hate her, but she had no reason too, and suddenly she felt plain, too plain next to Slytherin Chaser. Her dress robes looked equally as expensive and fine as Lasgalen's, yet hers were in a dark emerald color, hugging her perfect figure like a glove. Many silver bracelets danced at her thin pale wrists, some of them sparkling with emeralds that she had no doubt were real. Her dark hair had been pulled back from her face with more emeralds in a half-up do, falling down her back in perfect waves of ebony. She made every girl in the Entrance Hall suddenly plain, many eyes instantly darting in her direction, from both girls and boys.

Her eyes turned again to steal a quick glance at Lasgalen, but his eyes suddenly found hers through her crowd, icy and sharp, feeling like a slap to her face under that sudden glare, his arm which had previously been laced with Sonnet's now moving to lace around the Slytherin girl's delicate waist, pulling her closer to him. And she looked away immediately, suddenly taken aback, still feeling his sharp icy glare on the back of her head. What had she done? Did he not want to her to look?

She tried to push all thoughts from her head, trying to concentrate on the music and chatter and filled the Great Hall as she let Wills lead her inside, at the many small round tables that now covered it instead of the large four house tables, at the long trays filled with food that lay near all the walls. Yet, she could not shake that horrible feeling from inside her, making her already mangled insides to feel heavier than before. She had not talked to him since that night, three nights ago, in the Room of Requirement, but she had not expected him to glare at her this way, not when he had been so strangely open and friendly that night. He had chosen to tell her. Had he suddenly changed his mind? Did he suddenly hate her for something he had _chosen_ to tell her and now she knew? No, she would not think on that tonight. Tonight she would have fun, she would enjoy the Ball.

"I see my sister." She was brought back from her thoughts at Curtis Wills' soft voice, his eyes nodding in the direction of a table near the back of the room. Sure enough she could see Felicia Wills already sitting there, next to a boy did not remember seeing before. "Would it be alright if we join them?"

"Yeah, sounds good." She found herself agreeing, not able to find either of the twins or Eowyn at the moment. Besides, she did not mind sitting by Felicia, the Hufflepuff girl had always been one of the nicest girls in the school. Wills beamed at her, his smile always warm and welcoming, leading her in the direction of the small table.

"Hi Curtis, Hi Sigrid." Felicia greeted them just as she sat down, her smile identical to that of his twin brother, even if they looked incredibly different. Unlike her brother, Felicia had a made of reddish-brown hair, her face slightly more angled, even though they shared the same gorgeous black eyes. She was wearing pale gold dress robes, which looked stunning with her skin tone.

"Hi." She greeted in return, her eyes momentarily sweeping through the blond boy sitting by Felicia, recognizing him as a seventh year, although she did not know his name or House.

"Sigrid, this is Arsemius Pierce, he's a Hufflepuff too." Felicia quickly introduced, her tone always so easy going, motioning to the blond boy, who she addressed next. "And this is Sigrid Bowman, she's in my year, but in Gryffindor."

"Nice meeting you." The boy said politely, smiling warmly as he stretched his hand and Sigrid took it, shaking it lightly.

"So, your mother truly owns a Bowtruckle?" Pierce's attention returned to Felicia, carrying on with the conversation that their arrival had obviously interrupted, and she turned her eyes to overlook the crowd of students as Felicia went on explaining and laughing along with her date. Students had already started to dance, the crowd swaying and twirling in awkward waltzes, the volume of the chatter growing louder and louder. It seemed that everyone who would be attending was already here. She noticed Elrohir through a gap in the crowd, leading Sofina Wyne in a dance.

"Guess I never noticed how many students really are in Hogwarts." Her eyes turned to look at Wills' as he spoke, his eyes too looking curiously through the crowd. "Looks even fuller than during the Sorting Ceremony, and all the first, second and third years are missing."

She let out a light chuckle, nodding her head lightly, knowing exactly what he meant. The Great Hall looked for the first time ready to burst. The enchanted ceiling portrayed the same clear night sky that was outside, the Silver moon hanging high above their heads, adorned by a few thin clouds. The traditional twelve Christmas trees looked even taller and more elaborate than ever, six to one side of the Hall and six to the other.

"I don't even know half of the students." She admitted, watching amused as he let out a light laugh, shaking his mane of short black hair.

"Wouldn't be surprised to hear that." He chuckled, welcoming eyes looking at her brightly. "I hear you're always at the library."

"Not _always_." It was her turn to complain, even though she could not hide her smile. "I like the quiet there."

"And the homework." He added, eyebrows raising teasingly.

"Nobody _likes_ the homework." She contradicted with another short laugh, watching as more students rose to their feet to join the dancing crowd, other filling up their plates with the exquisite food. "I just like doing it in time. I hate last minute rushes and panics."

"You like doing the assignments, Bowman." He laughed, the sound strangely comforting and refreshing, and she was finding out that it was easy to talk to him. "Admit it. You like them. Even if only a little. You get better marks than most in our year."

"That's not true." She laughed again, watching as his eyebrows rose teasingly again.

"You definitely get better marks than me, and I'm a _Ravenclaw._ " He exaggerated, holding a look of faked offense and bewilderment that only made her laugh louder. "You're insulting my Ravenclaw pride and brains."

" _You_ don't like doing the assignments." She threw him a pointed look, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her right hand. Oh, she remembered McGonagall always chastising him for never handing work in time.

"No, I don't." He admitted easily with a light chuckle, shaking his head. "It's frustrating doing assignments that don't interest me at all. They are not creative, and too by the rules. I'd rather spend my time doing other stuff."

"Like what?" She asked, narrowing her eyes slightly, intrigued to hear his answer.

"Like, I don't know, testing spells pronouncing them differently to see what they do?" He chuckled at his own answer, as if hearing it himself he could see how unusual and amusing it sounded.

"Is that even safe?!" She exclaimed, her mouth hanging half-open, a soft round of bewildered giggles leaving her mouth.

"Well, I've noticed sometimes it's not." He admitted, looking mischievously guilty at something he was remembering. "Once I accidentally made a friend's robes burst into flames."

"Please don't try spells near me." She requested, watching him as he shook his head in agreement, holding up his hands in an offer of peace.

"Would you like to dance?" He suddenly asked, looking at her as if slightly scared she would say no, offering his hand for her to take.

"Alright." She accepted, letting him help her to her feet and lead her through the tight crowd and towards the dancing couples. "I'm not a really good dancer."

"Neither am I." He sounded slightly relieved as he said that, on his hands travelling to rest on her waist, starting to awkwardly lead her through the crowd of dancing couples.

It was strangely fun to twirl around, even though she had no idea what she was doing. More than once her feet stumbled on the hem of her long dress robes, but she never fell, thanks to her quick reflexes. She used the moment to let her eyes sweep once more through the Great Hall, finding this time Eowyn and Elladan twirling around some distance away from her. They too seemed to be having fun, not caring as they bounced and collided into nearby couples, Elladan exaggeratedly twirling Eowyn around. Lasgalen was there too, effortlessly guiding Alexis Sonnet around, nearly half of the dance floor away from her, by the other end of the Hall. Her stomach once again twisting painfully as those piercing ice blue eyes landed one her for only a split of a second, glaring at her so fiercely, that she had to turn away almost immediately, pretending she had not seen him. She waited a few seconds before daring another glance in his direction, only to find him now kissing the Slytherin girl, his hands gently placed around her waist, and she immediately looked away once more, not knowing why but hating the feeling that came with what she had seen, tying to steer her mind in another direction.

"Is that not the Peredhel twin's sister?" Curtis Wills' voice brought her back, and she was thankful to be given something else to focus on, following the line of his gaze only to find Arwen and Aragorn sitting together at the same table, very close from each other. "And is that not their best friend?"

"Yes." She added, quickly praying that neither of the twins had noticed already. Oh, Merlin. Just what she needed. She knew the twins would not react kindly to finding out that Aragorn had been seeing their sister for months now.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught Felicia Wills and Arsemius Pierce swirling around through the crowd of dancing couples. She dared another look in Lasgalen's direction, not knowing why she kept looking that way, why did her eyes seem to gravitate in that direction, even though she already knew her stomach and heart would sink at the sight of _her_ perfect stunning figure still in his arms. And they were still there, dancing even more gracefully than the other couples, Alexis Sonnet seeming to be having the time of her life, Lasgalen's hands still around her waist, pulling her close to him.

"Would you like to sit down?" She suddenly asked Wills, no longer wanting to stay here dancing, no longer wanting to look, merely wanting to disappear through the crowd. "I'm tired already." It was not a lie, her feet were starting to hurt, and she could not tell for long had they danced, only knowing that it had to have been hours.

"Of course." He agreed quickly, and she allowed him to lead her away from the dancing couples and making their way through the labyrinthine assortment of tables. She needed to glance back again, to dare one last glance in Lasgalen's direction, but she held it, forcing all of her thoughts to not look back, not when that horrible green monster was threatening to appear once more.

"I will get us something to drink." He offered, just as they reached an empty table near one corner of the room, and she accepted, watching Wills tall back disappear through the crowd and in the direction of one of the long tables at the back of the room holding the refreshments.

She did not why she was doing it, but the second he had disappeared she stood up from the table, moving through the crowd of huddled students, both sitting and standing, trying to find any of her friends, either Eowyn or one of the twins, feeling slightly free without Curtis Wills following her momentarily. She spotted Eowyn after a short while, her friend roaming through the tables some distance away, Elladan nowhere to be seen for the time being.

"Curtis Wills?" A deep musical voice suddenly echoed on her right ear form behind, making her nearly jump in surprise as her heart skipped a beat, freezing momentarily at the icy tone. " _Really?_ "

She turned around almost immediately, her lilac dress nearly tangling on her legs at the fast move, her silent brown eyes falling under the sharp piercing glare of a very familiar icy blue. He looked as tall as ever, towering over her in his perfectly regal posture, the dim candle light that filled the Great Hall making his long waterfall of hair even paler than it was. His face was that of a marble statue, hard, and unyielding, glaring at her mercilessly, making her feel as though he could see straight into her soul. She absently noticed that he was carrying two long glasses of Butterbeer.

"What's wrong with Wills." She added almost defensively, confusion taking the most of her, starting to turn into anger at his sudden unexplained hostility, at the fierce irate glare his eyes were giving her.

"Of all student's, you agreed to come with _him_?" His voice dripped with disgust, his eyes still burning through hers in apparent anger, making more frustrated, not knowing what was wrong with him, why could he not focus on dancing with his girlfriend and leave her alone.

"And who _should_ I have agreed to come with them?" She snapped at him, anger starting to boil through her at his words, as if he could judge who she could go to the Ball with! But he did not answer her question, his impenetrable unreadable eyes continuing to glare icily at her.

"Wills is _pathetic._ He's a nervous little boy who cannot even speak clearly sometimes." He snarled at her, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he pronounced the name.

"He's _nice_! Nicer than _you_ at least." She snapped again, anger boiling through her veins now, pumping at her temples. What was wrong with him?! Why did he keep glaring at her like that!? She did not give him a chance to say anything else, anger still gripping her like venom, a horrible feeling pooling at her stomach, her heart constricting as she rushed through the tables, leaving him behind. Why was he acting like that?!

A hand suddenly curled around her forearm, pulling her to the side, and she instantly recognized her friend's long turquoise robes and golden waves, her grey-blue eyes glaring at her underneath a hurt expression.

"Why was Lasgalen talking to you?" Her friend demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest in that gesture so typical of her when angry.

"I don't know!" She nearly snapped once more, having had enough of this to now have to deal with Eowyn demanding answers from her.

"Is there something else you're not telling me?" Her friend seemed hurt, her eyes studying her as if she was looking at her for the first time. "You no longer tell me anything, you keep things from me….do you not trust me?"

"What?" She was startled for a second, bewildered at Eowyn's question, yet her friend's narrowed eyes continued to look at her, her lips pursed. "Of course I trust you!"

"You keep hiding things from me!" Her friend nearly hissed, looking more hurt than angered this time, and for a second she wished she had never left the dance floor, wished that she was still dancing with Curtis Wills and away from everything.

"I'm not hiding things!" She contradicted, but Eowyn threw her a fiery glare that told her she clearly did not believe her words.

"Then why was Lasgalen talking to you? When have you two ever spoken?" Her friend whispered icily once more, looking at her intently. "He looked furious."

"He was." She agreed, now angered herself as she was reminded of the hostile look with which the Sltyherin Seeker had pierced her so unjustly.

"Why?" Eowyn demanded again, looking momentarily more puzzled than irate.

"I don't know!" She nearly cried out in frustration, Eowyn's eyes darkening suddenly, her face more offended than before.

"Find me when you trust me enough to tell me the _truth_." Eowyn hissed, her eyes glaring at her once more, looking beyond hurt, pained, and with that, her friend turned around, her turquoise robes trailing beautifully behind her as she stormed away, her golden waves bouncing with her steps.

Great. Perfect. This night could not get any better. She crossed her thin arms in front of her chest, as if bracing herself, spotting an empty table starting to make her way there before quickly changing her mind. She had had enough of the Yule Ball. She did not want to stay there any longer. Perhaps it would have been better not to have gone at all. She turned on her heels, heading towards the large pairs of open doors in long strides, wishing to be up at the Gryffindor common room, or even at her own bed up in the dormitories.

Many students were already leaving the Ball, some in couples holding hands and giggling, other in laughing groups or dragging their feet tiredly. It must have been well past midnight even though she could not tell the exact time. She rushed through them, only stopping when she heard someone yelling her name after her.

"Bowman! Bowman!" She turned around, her eyes landing on Curtis Wills tall figure, who was making his way to her in a hurry, looking confused, and she immediately felt guilty for not letting him know she was leaving. "Where are you going?"

"I'm tired, I'm really sorry, but I want to go to sleep." She tried to sound genuinely truthful, feeling only more ashamed as she watched realization fall into his warm black eyes, smiling at her softly, yet a little sad.

"Was it something I did? Or said?" He asked gently and she instantly shook her head, feeling more curls tear out of her neat braid.

"No!" She added quickly, watching as his smile became a little less sad, even though not entirely happy. "You did nothing wrong. I had a wonderful time with you. I'm just tired already."

"Alright." He shrugged, offering her another half-hearted smile, letting his hands drop on the pockets of his dark violet robes, his head hanging slightly in defeat.

"See you around?" He asked before turning to head back inside the Great Hall, his gentle smile a little hopeful, and she managed to offer him a smile in return.

"Yeah." She called softly, feeling worse now by deciding to leave, but needing to get away from there. "See you around."

She did not turn back as she exited through the large pair of majestic doors, making her slow march up many marble staircases and corridors, not even noticing the few students she passed by. It took her less than she had expected to reach the Fat Lady, who was so invested in whatever gossip she was sharing with a neighboring portrait that she did not even bother to listen to the password, letting her into the Gryffindor tower with a motion that indicate to hurry and not interrupt her for long.

Inside, the cozy room was completely empty, expect for a couple of six-years sitting intertwined together on one corner of the room, making it hard to tell which arms belonged to whom. She dropped herself on the seat farthest from them, and closest to the fire, taking off her shoes and dropping them carelessly over the carpet. She could still feel the fury travelling through her body, her ire at his hostile reaction. Did he once again blame her for knowing? For something that he had chosen to tell her willingly? It was once again as if he was two different people, suddenly so infuriating and hostile and then fun and nice and warm. She did not know how long she sat there, watching the flames, but nearly screamed in surprise as somebody else suddenly sat on the couch next to her.

"Left early? Wills not being much fun?" Elladan's ever teasing, ever carefree voice chirped in, still wearing his long dark blue dress robes and probably just having climbed up the portrait hole. A quick look around told her that the kissing couple from before had retired to bed already, leaving them alone in the quiet, warm common room.

"Yeah." She admitted with a slight nod on her head, watching him puzzled for a moment. "Why are you here early?"

"It's not really early." He pointed out, and against the odds she chuckled a little. It was already past midnight, so perhaps he was right.

"I got tired." He shrugged, leaning back casually on the couch. "Eowyn is furious with you, but she won't tell me why, and she was not being any fun, so I left her there while she fumed. And Elrohir is having too much fun dancing with Wyne." His silver twinkled mischievously as he spoke, and she knew his twin would not see the end of it after tonight.

"Besides," He started again, suddenly grinning with that expression that told her that what he was about to say would be too much fun to hear. "I wanted to get a peek at what was happening just outside the Great Hall."

"What was it?" She asked, not really too interested, but it was better than staying silent.

"You did not hear?" He suddenly looked confused, as if she had clearly missed something that the whole school knew about.

"Hear what?" She was now utterly puzzled, her hands softly starting to untie her long braid, letting her curls fall freely over her shoulders.

"Lasgalen and Sonnet were fighting." He told her, not seeming too interested in it but seeming to be oddly satisfied at knowing that the Slytherin he despised so much had not had a fun night either. "It was a big one. I don't know what they were fighting over, but Sonnet was yelling, and he did not seem to care whether or not she was angry. He broke up with her."

Here's the next chapter! Yule Ball is finally here!I hope you enjoy it! :D

Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed the last chapter, I can't tell you enough how much your words mean to me: Eryniel Greenleaf, Amsim, VanyaNoldo, Rose61393, and etnemelc.

Love,

Elena


	17. Break

"Eowyn, wait…"

Her friend walked right past her without even turning back to look, leaving her staring at the back of a head full of long golden waves. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Sigrid dropped herself upon the still unmade bed, listening to the dormitory door suddenly slam closed. It was the eight time that morning that Eowyn had completely ignored her. Ever since the Yule Ball the night before, her friend had taken it to act as if she was not even present in the room. It was driving Sigrid insane, what had previously been guilt and regret for not telling her friend the truth about her friendship with Lasgalen was quickly turning into boiling ire at being so bluntly- and repeatedly- ignored.

Shaking her head, she carelessly threw yet another sweater into her half-packed trunk before moving away to rummage through her wide collection of scarves. Outside the dim sunlight could barely filter through the overcast December sky, tiny snowflakes smashing against the freezing window pane. It was over two weeks now that the entire grounds had been covered by a white blanket that did not intend to disappear until March.

Her deep brown eyes roamed around the empty dormitory, landing on the perfectly packed trunks of Saturna, Eddelina and Aminta, waiting to be magically carried down to the train station. The only good thing about that morning was the hope of departing from the castle soon. Christmas break was finally upon them, the Hogwarts Express would be leaving Hogsmeade in exactly one hour. And still she was not finished packing. Not that she really cared about what she packed. A few sweaters, jeans and scarves would suffice.

"Sig?" A knock in the closed wooden door made her head turn in that direction, hearing Elladan's ever cheerful voice on the other side. "Sig? What is taking you so long! We should be getting down to Hogsmeade!"

"Coming!" She yelled, throwing a last sweater, her favorite pale blue knit sweater, into her trunk before slamming it closed haphazardly.

"I thought you had decided to stay behind!" Elladan's gleaming smirk met her eyes the second she opened the door, slightly surprised to find him in a deep blue sweater and jeans instead of the usual black school robes. His ever sparkling silver eyes glanced around the room over her shoulder before meeting hers again, narrowing slightly in confusion. "Where's Eowyn?"

"Don't start." Was all she said, her anger starting to rise once more at the mention of her friend.

"She's still angry with you?" Elladan deduced easily, a dark eyebrow rising high on his forehead. Nobody could arch eyebrows like the twins could.

"I guess." She nearly snapped, starting her way down the narrow spiraling stone steps, leaving Elladan to follow. "I would know for sure if she would so much as talk to me, or acknowledge my presence."

And yet, to her further frustration she heard Elladan's amused chuckles following her, as if the situation with her friend was somehow funny to him. She glanced back to throw him a deathly glare, to which both of his hands raised defensively in the air.

"Hey, do not take it out on me." He commented, reaching her side and wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a brotherly gesture. "Why is she so angry? What happened between the two of you at the Ball last night?"

The Ball. That seemed to be the only conversation topic that she had heard ever since returning to the Gryffindor tower the night before. Saturna had not stopped gossiping about it nearly all night, huddled up with Eddelina on one of the beds. And she was sure that every single student down in the Entrance Hall would still be talking about the Ball once they reached it.

"Nothing happened." She muttered as she climbed out of the portrait hole and into the long empty hallway outside. It seemed the fat lady had had too many drinks last night with a nearby painting, fro she could hear her loud snores echoing through the hall.

"Ok, I won't ask anything else." Was all that Elladan said, as if understanding that she would not be giving any details. Instead, he chose to drift the conversation into a different direction. "You're still coming with us right? For Christmas?"

"Of course I am." She had to laugh lightly at his question. "Otherwise I would not be packing to leave!"

"Good." He grinned widely, and for a second she had the feeling that whatever he was thinking about meant trouble. Truth was she was excited to spend Christmas with the twins and their family. Her own dad was travelling at this time, so she would normally have to spend the holydays in Hogwarts. At least the twins had given her another choice. She knew they were not going to their primary house but apparently to a second holyday residency the twin's father owned by a large lake. At least she would not have to deal with Eowyn for a couple of weeks.

"Where's Elrohir?" She suddenly asked, noticing the uncharacteristic absence of the younger twin.

"Well, it seems that at least one of us did have a _wonderful_ Yule Ball" The mocking smirk on Elladan's face said everything, making her let out a chorus of laughter. "He's saying goodbye to Sofina Wyne."

"How was it with Wills?" Elladan continued to chat, descending the giant stone staircase nearly two at a time into the overly large Entrance Hall. She could already hear the muffled chatter of a thousand voices echoing through the massive heavy walls, footsteps bouncing on the stone as students gathered from all sides close to the majestic pair of doors, ready to depart.

"He was nice." She shrugged, even though her stomach tied into guilty knots at the mere mention of the handsome Ravenclaw. She should have acted as a better date than she had been. She could still see his saddened smile as he had discovered she had decided to simply leave the Ball without even telling him. He had done. Nothing wrong, in fact it had been fun to be around him. Except…except that he wasn't the one she had hoped to spend Yule Ball with.

Only thinking about that made a new round of butterflies dance inside her stomach, her heart leaping almost too victoriously. He had broken up with her. And the gossip was currently flying all around the castle and grounds at the moment. She could not name what she felt every time she overheard anyone speaking about it, but could tell it was a thousand times better than that horrible green monster that used to appear every time _she_ was mentioned.

"You know he likes you, right?" Her heart skipped a beat at Elladan's words, suddenly coming back to reality to find that they were already down in the crowded Entrance Hall.

"Huh?"

"Wills" Any butterflies that she might had been feeling suddenly ceased at Elladan's clarification, those silver eyes looking at her all too mockingly, seeming to be enjoying teasing her. "He likes you. It is easy to tell."

"Oh…well…"She did not really know what to say, playing with a loose strand of her golden curls, trying to find a way to changing the subject.

"Are you going to date him?" Her eyes grew wide at Elladan's seemingly absurd suggestion. Out in the distance she could hear McGonagalla giving instructions that nobody seemed to be paying attention to, and she barely even noticed that slowly the long line of students had started to move, walking into the snow-covered steps and heading towards the Train Platform.

"What—No!" She whispered as a bunch of second year student's elbowed past them, too eager to reach the train station to cared who they ran over on the way. The freezing outside wind hit her face harshly, making her grip her thick sweater closer to her, wishing that she had brought one of her long cozy school cloaks with her.

"Why not?" Elladan chuckled teasingly, not even seeming to be feeling the dreadfully cold weather around them. "It's not as if I suggested you dated Scott Romagnoli"

She shook her head at the mention of the fat Hufflepuff boy with his face full of painful looking pimples, throwing Elladan a reproachful look for making fun of him.

"Because I don't want to date Wills." She added in a another whisper, not wanting the students around to overhear into their conversation. Not that anybody was paying attention to them. In fact, it seemed that everyone around them was to immersed in sharing their own Yule Ball experiences and gossip to even notice the conversations happening around.

"You are so strange, Sig." He teased her again, shaking her head slightly, making his long dark hair sway elegantly at his back. "Every Ravenclaw girl wants to date Wills, and yet he likes _you_." He added, sounding a little begrudgingly, and for a second she wanted to ask which Ravenclaw girl he had a crush on that wanted to date Wills instead.

"Who likes Sig?" A familiar voice chimed in from behind them, making nearly ump in surprise.

"Wills, Ro, pay attention." Elladan updated his twin.

"Is she dating him?"

"I'm not dating Wills." She muttered in exasperation, getting tired of this conversation, and yet she knew the twins' mission was precisely to irritate her, not really caring about the conversation themselves. It was all to tease her. Oh, Merlin, and she was about to spend the entire Christmas Break with them?"

"Why not? Every Ravencalw girl wants to date him." Elrohir repeated the same thing his twin had said only seconds ago, making her want to pull at her hair.

"Does _Wyne_ want to date him?" It was her turn to narrow her eyes as she teased the younger twin, who only seemed capable of grinning at the mere mention of the Ravenclaw Chaser.

"No she doesn't." He was quick to add, his attention one again focusing on her. "Don't change the subject, Sig, why would you not want to date Wills unless—"

The younger twin suddenly stopped, silver eyes abruptly lighting up with a grin she knew all too well, staring intently at her. "You like someone else!"

"What? No, I don't!" What were they even thinking! "Just drop it! Let's talk about something else."

"Merlin, you _do_ like someone else!" Elladan joined his twin, studying her with a victorious, yet confused grin. "Who is he? Why have you not mentioned anything?"

"Because I don't like anyone else!" She nearly hissed. She didn't like anyone. She didn't. Now more than ever she wished Eowyn was not angry with her, her friend always had the last minute gossip that would shift the conversation to her and Sigrid would be left alone in peace.

"Fine, we won't tease anymore" Elladan laughed, raising his hands in the air in a peace offering gesture. The scarlet Hogwarts express had come into view in the distance, amidst a white cloud of vapor that floated eerily beautiful around it. Masses of students were already climbing into the wagons, heads pocking through the windows yelling and waving at their friends below. Half the school year was already gone, yet it felt as if only a day ago she had been climbing into this same train on her way to start the year.

"I see Eowyn." Elrohir smiled, already making his way ahead through the crowd. "Come on! Let's catch up with her and find a compartment."

She felt her insides drop heavily, watching as Elladan quickly followed his twin. Deciding that she would either go with her friends, or find an empty compartment and sit alone for the duration of the ride, Sigrid begrudgingly followed Elladan into the scarlet warm train. Nearly every compartment was full inside, the narrow corridor filled with students walking this way and that, the twins somehow managing to make way through the tight crowd. But then again, they somehow seemed to be friends with half of the school, everyone letting them through without trouble. She nearly stepped over the tail of a fat black cat on her way, a third year Ravencalw girl, hurrying to pick up her stray pet before anyone else had the chance to potentially harm it.

"Hi, Elladan!" She had to stifle a laugh as she heard Eddelina waving at the elder twin from one of the compartments, batting her thick dark eyelashes. The elder twin seemed about to run away from a split second, but somehow managed to force a smile and wave back at the girl.

"Let's find a compartment _far away_ from this one." She heard him muttering to his younger twin between gritted teeth. Oh, if Elladan teased again about anything, she would use Eddelina to tease back.

The passed a group of Slytheirng girls sitting tight on a compartment to their right, whispering hurriedly among themselves. And there it was again, that feeling in the pit of her stomach she could not describe at the sight of that flawless pale skin, silken dark hair and gorgeous pale green eyes.

"What is he thinking?" A flaming red haired Slytherin girl was saying, shaking her head disapprovingly. "That he can find anyone better than you? You are a pure blood, from a wealthy family, and the best in our class! And the best Chaser in Hogwarts, Al!"

"He will come back to you, I know it." A silver blond girl added this time, making her want to roll her eyes and the same time smile at all this comforting break up talk she could hear.

"If he doesn't, can _I_ date him?" Another girl jumped in, her eyes so pale they seemed made of ice, contrasting sharply with her tanned complexion and thick dark hair.

"Do not dare!" Alexis' Sonnet's eyes glared at the girl with such fury that for a second she almost expected her to have cast a nonverbal jinx. Yet the other girl did not seem at all concerned with the look she received, merely inspecting her nails as if bored.

"Azalia!" The red haired girl seemed scandalized, throwing ice at the tanned girl who merely sat back on her seat. "He's Al's!

"Just saying." The girl, Azalia she had learned, shrugged her shoulders nearly disinterestedly "He seemed pretty angry last night, I doubt he will be speaking to you anytime soon."

"Do not listen to her." The silvery blond hair jumped in almost immediately, huddling closer to the glaring Alexis. "Besides it's Christmas Break, and you know your family always spends the holydays with his, since you live so close and both of your father's work at the Ministry! You will see him!"

"They won't be home for Christmas!" Alexis Sonnet snapped furiously, the blond hair stepping back immediately. "They are going to their holiday house in the countryside!"

"This one's empty!" Elrohir suddenly called, making her attention return to her friends and almost begrudgingly leave the gossiping Slytherin girls in their compartments behind. She had wanted to hear more. She didn't really know why, but she had wanted to hear more. Why had Lasgalen been angry with Sonnet? What had they argued about? Why had he broken up with her? And more importantly, why did she even care!?

Instead, she followed Eowyn and the twins inside the cozy small compartment, closing the door behind her. Eowyn's grey-blue eyes turned up only to glare at her before setting on the window, and she could already feel her anger rising at the prospect of being ignored yet again.

"Is your dad picking you up at King's Cross?" Elladan asked Eowyn casually as he dropped himself to sit next to her, picking out a bag of unopened every favor beans from his pant pocket.

"Yeah, then we're going to go visit my brother in France." Eowyn helped herself to one of the candies without asking, the elder twin not seeming to mind.

"He's still working there then?" She asked, testing the waters and see if her friend would reply, and yet all she received was that icy stare again, not even a word in return.

"Will you stop that childish act and talk to me?" She tried again, a little less friendly this time, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, you want _me_ to talk to you?" There it was again, that cold smug tone that made her want to rage. "Ok, let's talk, but _you_ start explaining."

"Explaining what?!" She nearly yelled, close to the end of her patience. Outside the window the snow danced in a race of flurries, mountains and valleys flying past them peacefully.

"You _know_ what." Eoywn's eyes narrowed at her, the twins sharing a look between themselves that told her they would rather be anywhere but there at that precise moment.

"No, I don't!" She lied, but truth was she did not really want to talk about it specifically. She just wanted her friend back! "What do you want me to say?"

"Ok, I'll help you remember." Eowyn added coldly, folding her eyes on her lap. "Why was Lasgalen talking to you at the Yule Ball?...No, let me rephrase that, why was Lasgalen angry with you at the Yule Ball?"

"Lasgalen?" Elladan suddenly asked, his voice speaking the name as if it was poisoned, silver eyes looking at her as though she had betrayed him somehow.

"Lasgalen is cold and angry with everyone who is not his little spawn of a brother or his Slytherin followers." Elrohir added to Eowyn's question, as if that should suffice as any sort of explanation. And yet she wanted to glare at the twins and Eowyn, to yell at them for their prejudices that blinded them so much! They didn't even know him!

"Why was he talking to you?" Eowyn pressed, the twin's eyes now landing on her expectantly.

"Because!" She exclaimed, feeling like she owed no explanation to anyone! And yet she knew why her friend was angry, and it precisely because of this, because she kept hiding things from her. But what was there for her to say that did not end in a thousands of comments from all of her friends about how awful and attention seeking and aloof Lasgalen was. She already knew all of the stories and rumors about him! And she also knew they are all wrong, they were so incredibly wrong….nobody knew the truth…

"Because is not a reason." Oh, Eowyn knew just how to keep pushing it and pushing it.

"Why would Lasgalen be talking to you, Sig?" Elrohir was the one to ask this time, even though he seemed legitimately puzzled, at least his voice did not sound as accusing as Eowyn's did.

"He wanted my Potion's class notes, wanted to burrow them." She said the first thing she could think of that would not give away any kind of friendship with the Slytherin Seeker. But they were not really friends…or were they? She could no longer tell. She had not seen him since that night at the Room of Requirement, and then he had been so angry with her for no reason at all at the Yule Ball.

"He just wants to copy your work." Elladan murmured, shaking his head disapprovingly, taking yet another candy from the small bag. "too lazy to do his own work….or even attending class for that matter."

"At the Yule Ball?" Eoywn crossed her thin arms tightly over her chest, eyebrows raised as if she knew she had caught an obvious lie. "He wanted to talk to you about class – which we all know he cares so little about he doesn't even attend- while being at the Yule Ball?"

"It was before the Yule Ball!" She added quickly, surprised at how steady her voice sounded, how sure she seemed of herself. She wished nothing more than to tell Eowyn the whole truth, but how? How could she make Eowyn listen to her without her prejudices and hatred she was so willing to hold on to? And then there was the fact that she could not tell her friend the whole truth even if she wanted to. Nobody knew, and even Lasgalen seemed to prefer the rumors that went about than having anyone knew what it really was.

"I ran into him at the library and he asked for my notes, and I said no. He didn't like that, and was angry with me and wanted to make my life miserable at the Ball. That's why you saw him talking to me, he was still angry. Are you happy now?" She felt her insides twist in disgust at the words that were coming out of her mouth, and yet she could see her friend partially accepting her new lie. For a second she wanted to yell at Eowyn for choosing to so easily believe this tale simply because it depicted Lasgalen as acting selfish and unfriendly.

"Typical Lasgalen." Elrohir added with a shake of the head, and she had to bite her tongue to not yell in return.

"Fine, I believe you, Sig." Eowyn sighed, but she was no longer in the mood for peace-making and friendly talk, resting her head against the cold window pane and closing her eyes, pretending to be trying to sleep.

IIIIIIIII

A light tap on the shoulder suddenly woke her up, her eyes blinking a couple of times only to realize that the soft lull of the moving train had stopped. Outside the window, the sky had turned completely black, and she could see the familiar shapes of Platform 9 ¾.

"We're here, Sig." Elrohir's voice whispered close to her ear, and she could almost hear the soft smile on his voice. "You slept the entire journey."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Eowyn standing up from the cushioned seat, reaching up for her small backpack while Elladan tied a long black scarf around his neck. A thousand voices echoed loudly outside in the narrow corridor, students walking sluggishly and elbowing each other in their eagerness to climb out of the train, some of the first years yawning tiredly.

"I see Ada." Elladan suddenly said, face pressed close to the window, but she was too tired to turn and look outside. Ada. Dad. That word still sounded strange to her ears, no matter how many times she had heard it. It was an old tongue, one that only the oldest families of wizards still used sporadically.

"He managed to leave St. Mungo's early today?" Elrohir added as he rose to his feet, using his right hand to slide open the compartment door. The noise from the corridor immediately swept inside, making Sigrid suddenly completely awake, not looking forward to shuffling her along the crowd of tired cranky students. But then again, she could not wait to get out of this train.

Her brown eyes scanned through the line of students almost hopefully, searching to find a familiar tall figure she knew would not be there. He would be at the front of the train, in the compartment reserved specially for the prefects and head boys and girls. She did catch his brother, his little silvery head impossible to miss in the crowd, laughing along with another group of Slytherin boys.

It took long minutes of patience before they finally managed to climb off the train, her legs feeling awkward and stiff from the many hours sitting down. The soft cloud of steam covered the platform with a white glow, making the shapes and shadows casted by many torches and magical lights feel longer and larger. All around her students rushed to reach their parents and families, many of them waving around in hopes to be seen by a loved one.

"See you back at the castle?" She turned her head when she heard Elladan addressing Eowyn softly, the later smiling widely before nodding her head.

"Have a happy Chirstmas, all of you." Her friend waved one of her pale thin hands, for the first time that day seeming to have completely forgotten her anger.

"You too." She managed to say in unison with Elrohir, watching her friend nearly running away and disappearing through the thick cloud of vapor, no doubt in search of her brother. Still it felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders, her fight with Eowyn seeming suddenly so far away. Even though she knew it was only momentarily. She would have to tell the truth sooner or later.

"I trust you had a pleasant journey?" A deep voice approached them, her eyes immediately lifting up to find the tall impossibly powerful figure of the twins' father. Long dark hair fell lose down his back, cascading over the long rich burgundy cloak he was wearing. Kind silver eyes, bathed in a sort of wisdom she could never understand sweeping through each of their faces, the same color as the twins' and yet so different, so much more powerful, the knowledge of a thousand millennia concealed in their depths.

She had known the twins' father for nearly as long as she had known the twins, and yet that steady, authoritative aura that seemed to constancy surround him never stopped to surprise her, as if she would never get used to it. And yet there was one more thing pooling nervously inside her mind at that precise moment. He had been there that day, when she had been accidentally dragged to St. Mungo's. And oh, Merlin, she hoped with all of her power that he had not seen her. But whether or not he had, he did not mention it.

"We did." Elladan was the one to speak, smiling widely at the sight of his father. "Sig and Ro slept the whole way."

"You fell asleep too?" She whispered to the younger twin, who merely let out a light laugh with a nod of his head.

"Where's Arwen?" Elrohir pointed out, his silver eyes looking around the cloudy platform in search of their gorgeous sister.

"You sister is spending a couple of days with Elise. But she will be spending Christmas with us, Elise's parents will drop her off on Saturday." The tall dark haired wizard offered as an explanation, those silver piercing eyes suddenly flying in her direction, smiling warmly at her. "So, Sigrid, it appears you will have her room entirely to yourself until Saturday."

"Lucky you." Elladan was quick to mutter, just as they started their march along the crowded platform. "I still have to share."

"Oh, shut up, Dan." Elrohir rolled his eyes, one hand flying up to playfully smack his brother's shoulders, but a quick glance at his nearby father made him suddenly change his mind.

A few seconds later they had stepped outside into the freezing streets of London. She guessed it must have been late at night, because it was oddly quiet and empty all around them. Sigrid opened her mouth, about to ask something when Mr. Peredhel pulled out what looked to be a broken muggle watch from his robe's pocket.

"All right. Everybody hold on to it." He instructed in his ever peaceful yet commanding deep voice, and she knew that nobody would ever dare to argue against him. They must have looked funny, had anybody walked past them at that precise moment, all four of them standing in an awkward circle holding onto a horrible muggle watch that did not even work. Except that it was no ordinary watch. It was a portkey. She could feel her stomach already turning in dread. Portkeys always made her so dizzy.

"Here we go." She could hear the twin's father speaking, but had already closed her eyes tightly shut, knowing from experience that it was easier if she did not look at the spinning around her. "Three….Two…..One…."

And there it was. Suddenly she felt as if a giant claw had taken hold of the back of her neck, pulling her forcefully in every direction, the world compressing tightly around her, spinning, spinning….spinning. Her feet hit the ground with a loud thud, the impact taking her by surprise and making her lose her balance, falling straight on her bottom. She did not dare open her eyes just yet, feeling that familiar horribly queasiness that always followed her after travelling by portkey.

Her hands travelled to the ground at her sides, ready to push herself up, but her fingers were met with something soft, and cold: snow. They were outdoors? Her eyes snapped open in a flash, falling on the twins' figures as they too pushed themselves to stand. But it was not the twins which had caught her attention, it was not them which made her eyes gaze in wonder, mouth half-open.

They were standing in what seemed to be the edge of a thick forest, the snow covering the ground in a while soft blanket. The pale silver moon hung high on the black sky, its shimmering light kissing the snow in silvery waves. A huge frozen lake stretched before her eyes, its edge not too far away from she stood, so large that she could not even see its other side, like a frozen black ocean that merged at the horizon with the black night sky. The soft night breeze toyed with her hair, singing a melodious tune that made the frozen leaves on the overly tall trees waltz. Right by the water's edge, rose high the largest most beautiful house her eyes had ever laid eyes upon. A thousand delicate windows shimmered with bright welcoming yellow light, hundreds of balconies pocking outside so delicately it seemed as though they were floating, their railings too intricate, too frail. Part of the giant manor seemed to be hiding inside the forest, almost becoming part of it, with trees starting to climb their way over pointed arches lining courtyards, the branches canopying over some of the lower balconies in enchanted natural roofs. A massive cliff stood tall and overpowering to the back of the house, here some of the higher rooms seemed to attach to the stone as if they were growing out of it, making a dozen or so of wide terraces appear and disappear form view.

" _This_ is your _holiday_ house?" She could not help but whisper as she heard Elladan approaching her from behind, not even turning her eyes away from the enchanting sight to look at him. She had been at the twin's primary residence before, and although large for a house it could not begin to be compared to this.

"It's belonged to the family for a very long time." Elladan shrugged, pretending as if the sight no longer impressed him at all, his attention suddenly turning to something else, glancing over his shoulder. "Oh, no."

"What?" She turned around to look at whatever it was the elder twin was looking at, following his gaze only to notice that a second gigantic house stood not far away from them, by the other edge of the frozen lake, hundreds of windows also shimmering with welcoming yellow light.

"The Lasgalens are here." Elrohir muttered nearly to himself, silver eyes also studying the lighted house not too far away. In a split second she felt her stomach twist into an uncomfortable knot, nerves wracking her body.

"What?" Was all she managed to ask. Had she heard correctly?

"They haven't come here for the past five years. Why have they suddenly decided to spend Christmas here?" Elladan was the one to speak, but she could no longer tell whether he was addressing anyone in particular of simply talking to himself, his voice dripping with dread and discontent, as if his entire Christmas Break had suddenly been ruined.

"Oropher and his sons are spending the Holydays here as well." Mr. Peredhel's deep yet firm voice trailed to them, his tall elegant figure approaching them at a pace so graceful she wondered if he was even leaving footprints in the snow. His silver eyes looked directly at his sons, looking from one to the other warningly, sternly. "I have taken the liberty of inviting them over for Christmas' Eve Dinner, and the two you _will_ behave this time. I want no quarrels and no fights this year…."

The tall dark-haired wizard continued to warn his sons but she was no longer listening, her eyes glued instead to the tiny shimmering yellow windows of the nearby second house, half-way hoping, half-way dreading to see that familiar curtain of long silvery hair sweeping through one, those piercing ice blue eyes staring back at them perhaps. And yet there was something else suddenly in her mind, something that one again make her want to yell a thousand questions to the two identical figures standing next to her. So they _knew_ the Lasgalens. By Mr. Peredhel's tone, he and Mr. Lasgalen were… _friends_. Then why did the twins hate him so much? Why did they act as if they did not even know each other?

Hi there! I know it was been an awfully long wait! I'm so sorry about that! I hope this chapter can somehow start to make up for that! Let me know what you think! I know there was no Thranduil in this chapter, but there will be a lot of him in the coming one! ;)

Again, thank you thank you immensely to all of you who took the time to review the last chapter, I can't tell you how much your words and comments mean to me! Zazanga, EryynielGreenleaf, Amsim, VanyaNoldo22, Rose61393, Cold Outside, and IT'sBeenARealSlice.

Love,

Elena


	18. Intruder

The morning was oddly quiet once Sigrid woke up. The large room was cold, the heavy blankets feeling cozy and warm all around her body. Pale golden rays filtered through the frost covered windows that lined that bedroom, the forest outside even whiter than it had been before. Bracing herself after mentally counting to three inside her head, Sigrid pushed the comforting covers aside, almost yelping as her bare feet came in contact with the floor. She always did this, always kicked her warm socks during the night only to suffer the freezing flooring in the morning.

It took her ten minutes to find a suitable sweater and pair of jeans to wear, for the first time wishing that she had taken more care when packing her messy trunk. Finally, she chose a knitted maroon sweater and her favorite old pairs of jeans, throwing them eon after a long hot bath. She even tried combing and styling her hair, but her golden curls refused to behave, making her ending up tying them in a bun in frustration. And still, the odd silence remained. Silence was never normal in the twins' house. Never.

"Dan?" She called out as she descended the wide wooden staircase into the overly large living room, her eyes meticulously scanning her surroundings. "Ro?"

No answer came. Narrowing her eyes, she made her way towards the airy kitchen, where the high windows overlooked the largest portion of the frozen lake. "Dan? Ro?"

Empty as well. What? She was about to return upstairs when her eyes caught a piece of parchment sitting alone on the long wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. Taking it in her hands, her brown eyes danced over the familiar handwriting of the elder twin.

 _Sig,_

 _Left with Ada to run some errands. You were asleep so we decided not to wake you. Will be back around noon._

Placing the parchment back on the table, Sigrid let herself drop comfortably on one of the twelve chairs that lined it. So she had the entire house to herself for the morning. A covered bowl of cereal lay neatly on one of the many countertops, which she guessed was her breakfast. She debated whether or not eating it, but decided against it, not really feeling hungry at all.

Instead she paced around the large living room, eyes searching through the massively high bookcases lining the walls, trying to find something interesting to read. There were always good books in the twins' house, and she sometimes wondered how it was that they could sometimes ignore them instead of devouring them at every chance they had. Her eyes travelled from title after title, gazing at all the differences in sizes and colors of the covers. Most of them were about the arts of healing, about types of spells and how to counter them, how to brew antidotes to lethal potions...it came as no surprise whatsoever, considering that the twin's father was the head healer in the St. Mungo's Hospital.

She picked out one of the few books that looked like a lighter read, comfortably throwing herself across the warm deep red couch by the fireplace. This, this was sanctuary. The bright orange flames swayed in a lazy dance, crackling at the burning wood they slowly consumed. She could feel their heat licking at the throw blanket around her legs, the weight of the book on her lap.

A sudden screech made her turn her head in surprise, only to find an owl flying in the direction of one of the many windows lining the room. She was on her feet in a second, momentarily forgetting about the book or blanket waiting for her on the couch, her attention now fully focused on the owl. She recognized those greyish brown feathers immediately, the way in which one of the winds seemed a little odd and strain from age. It was their family's owl!

"I'm coming!" She whispered at the animal who was now impatiently hitting its beak against the long crystal, demanding her to let it in the house. It took her a couple of seconds of fiddling with the ancient window latch, but the second the window opened the owl flew inside and landed awkwardly on a little round wooden table in the corner of the room.

She hurried to its side, rolling her eyes as the animal screeched at her as if asking her to move faster, picking at the little string that tied a small brown package to one of its claws. She detached it as fast as she could, watching the impatient owl stretch her wings and flap outside the window the same way it had come, not even waiting for a reply.

"I see your humor hasn't changed…" She muttered to the owl that was disappeared through the heave low clouds, shaking her head lightly before turning her attention back to the little package waiting for her at the table.

A tiny note lay neatly folded at the top of the package, tied along with a thin golden cord. _"Sigrid"_ read in the curly cluttered handwriting of her father, her fingers almost immediately unfolding the little parchment.

 _Here's a little early Christmas treat! Enjoy! – and share._

 _With love,_

 _Da_

A wide smile broke through her face at the little message, hearing her dad's voice in her head as she read the words. Taking the still unopened package in her hands, she grabbed the thick woolen throw blanket from the couch and made her way outside to the long front porch of the house. The cold hit her face so suddenly that all remaining sleepiness suddenly vanished from her, huddling her sweater closer to her. She didn't know why, but even despite the cold the little – well nothing was little in this house - outdoor porch overlooking the forest and lake held an enchanting allure that she could not get enough of.

There was an old wooden swing to one side of it, the pale cream cushions comfortable enough for someone to fall asleep on them. Wrapping the blanket tightly around her body, she lowered herself on the swing, the old wood cracking a little under the unexpected weight, tucking her legs underneath her. Out of curiosity, she gave the little package a shake by her ear, listening as the contents inside wiggled around the box.

In the morning light, she could see way more of the forest and lake surrounding the house than she could the night before. And it even appeared larger, it that was even possible. All around her the snow covered what had once been grass in a layer so soft it could have been cotton. Almost immediately her eyes travelled to the other house in the distance, by other side of the lake, searching for any sign of activity, but found none.

Only one thing let her know that the house was indeed occupied, and the wasn't entirely alone in this grand lands. A small figure kept zooming around across the lake in a broomstick, so fast she was getting dizzy form only watching. And yet, even through the distance she could make out that the figure was indeed the younger Lasgalen brother, too small for it to have been Thranduil. He would go up as high as he dared, nearly disappeared through the thick white clouds and then suddenly dash down, as if we were about to crash against the lake's icy surface. And then, at the very last minute he would angle the broomstick and zoom parallel to the lake, giving her a fright in the process.

Focusing her attention back on the package, Sigrid let her freezing fingers – she should have worn gloves- untie the thin golden string, pulling at the brown paper covering the box. Inside, lay an wide assortment of cadies and treats, her eyes scanning through chocolate frogs, a couple of bags of every flavor bean, three sugar quills- all a different flavor-, fudge cauldrons, and even a collection of some sort of taffy she had never seen before. She nearly let out a little laugh as she remembered the instructions written on the little note accompanying the gift: share. Ohh….she didn't want to share this little treasure.

She was trying to decide which candy to start on when a sudden crash had her eyes flying in the direction of the lake. Her heart nearly skipped a beat as she found the little Lasgalen suddenly lying upon the lake's black surface, the broomstick sliding over the ice away from him. In a flash, her feet were already making their way through the snow-covered grounds in that direction, not even noticing as the cold snow got inside the top of her poorly laced boots.

"Are you ok?!" She partially yelled as she approached the edge of the lake, her heart racing like a caged bird inside her chest.

"Ow!" She let out a sigh of relief, watching the little Lasgalen pushing himself to stand on the ice not too far from her, shaking his long golden hair away from his face with a gloved hand. A round of joyful laughter left his mouth, letting her relax a bit as she understood that he was alright. Waving at her with an excited movement of the hand, Legolas Lasgalen tumbled precariously along the slippery surface in the direction of his broomstick, picking it up before walking in her direction, seeming eager to step anywhere but the frozen lake.

"Are you hurt?" She asked again the second he reached her side, dropping his broomstick carelessly on the snow by his feet. He wore a deep blue sweater, so thick it made her slightly jealous of how warm he must have been, a pale grey scarf wrapped tightly around his neck.

"No. But I think I scratched my elbow.'" He shook his head as a reply, sounding impressively cheerful for someone who had just crashed a broomstick. His long silvery hair, so much like his brother's hung freely just past his shoulders, those ivy blue eyes, a pair that was somehow eve warm and welcoming looking up at her, smiling widely.

"What happened?" She asked, shaking her head at his lack of any worry, watching throw himself down to the soft blanket of snow, sitting down facing the lake. Her eyes inspected the area around them, trying to find any sign of anybody else on the other house, but everything remained as still as before.

"Can you not tell anyone that I was flying, please?" Pale blue eyes, so gentle and full of mirth looked up at her pleadingly, as if able to read his thoughts. "I'm not allowed to fly if there' s no one around to watch."

He almost sounded slightly bitter at the last statement, making her let out a chuckle at how much he resembled Tilda at that moment. She had already started to wonder how was it that his father or anyone would let him- an eleven year old- flying that way and that high up unsupervised.

"I won't tell." She decided, lowering herself to sit on the snow next to him. It felt odd, being this close to the younger Lasgalen, who she had only ever seen from the distance before. And suddenly she understood why Tilda liked him so much. Contrary to his elder brother projected coldness and aloofness, Legolas was all smiles and gentle warmth, making her wonder as to why he would have asked the hat to be placed in Slytherin. For a second, she wondered that if Thranduild had not been in Slythrin himself, would she had then seen little Legolas prancing around the Gryffindor common room with Tilda?

"Thanks!" He smiled up at her once more, turning his arm around to inspect his elbow. "I think I got a scratch."

"Let me see." He rolled the sleeve of his thick sweater at her request, revealing a thin red line on the back of his elbow. It wasn't really bleeding, barely even looking like a little pink line on his pale arm. "You'll be fine." She laughed, waving a hand in the air at the barely existent injury.

"Still, it's a cool scratch I'll get to show Thran later tonight." He once again sounded too excited about it, as if he could not wait to get back on the broomstick that- in her opinion- had nearly killed him. And people kept asking her why she didn't like flying! Broomsticks were dangerous!

"Why was nobody watching you?" She suddenly asked, trying to get a glimpse as to where his brother might be. She had not seen him at all around, and strangely enough part of her long to see his long silvery hair, piercing unreadable eyes.

"Ada and Thran are out shopping for a Christmas gift for grandma, but I decided to stay. Polly was supposed to be watching us – our house elf-" he clarified at her suddenly confused expression. "But I managed to sneak out without being noticed."

There it was again, that shortened name for a figure that to still felt a little too regal and aloof to her. The way he spoke so casually about his older brother never stopped to amuse her, as if he was talking about a completely different person than the one everyone else knew.

"You're Tilda's sister, aren't you?" Soft blue eyes were looking at her expectantly, making it impossible for her not to smile in return. She missed Tilda already. Merlin she even missed Bain and his messes and loud voice!

"Yeah." She nodded, watching placing a strand of his long blond hair behind a little ear.

"She's really nice." He added, his eyes suddenly drifting to her hands. "What's that?"

"Oh, this…"She had nearly entirely forgotten about the little box of candy that she still held in her hands, suddenly remembering its presence. "Is candy that I got early for Christmas"

She opened the box, letting him look in wonder at the inside, suddenly feeling that the small assortment of candy might look pathetic to his eyes. He must be used to getting way more candy than what her father could afford to give her.

"Would you like some?" She added, remembering the little note her dad had written.

"Can I get a frog?" He asked almost shyly, his eyes looking at the bagged chocolate frogs as if they were treasured made of gold, making her laugh again.

"Of course." She passed him the box, watching his hand roam through all the chocolate frog bags, as if not able to decide which of the frogs he wanted. Finally he settled on one, opening the wrapper so quickly that she wonder if he had been famished.

However, instead of eating the frog right away, she watched him place it back on the wrapper before it could jump away, his fingers turning around the collectible card underneath longing eyes. And then, his face fell almost immediately, making her let out an amused chuckle.

"What did you get?" She asked him, finding his excitement – and then disappointment – about the card almost too funny. She had never collected the cards before, not really understanding where the fun was in there.

"Rowena Ravenclaw" He sighed, handing her the card for her to see. "You can keep it if you wish. I have seven of those."

"Do you want another frog?" His eyes lighted up instantly at the prospect of another card, but he then shook his head, as if not wanting to abuse of candy that was not his.

"Nah, its ok." He shrugged, sharing that bright contagious smile of his.

"Come on." She nudged him offering him the box again. "Try another one and see what you get."

"Are you sure?" He asked almost timidly, only grabbing a wrapped chocolate frog at her insistence, opening it immediately to sigh in frustration.

"Ravenclaw again!" He laughed, this time shoving the collectible card in his sweater's pocket.

"Another one?" She suggested, not really knowing why she was finding it so much fun to try and see which card he kept pulling out of the frogs.

"It's ok." He shook his head again. "I'm stealing all of your cards!"

"I don't collect them." She explained with a shrug, watching as his eyes longingly stared at the box on candy, as trying to make up his mind yet not wanting to abuse.

"Let's do something." She got an idea, folding her hands neatly on her lap. "Let's get all the cards and see if whatever it is you are looking for shows up. We don't have to eat the frogs."

"But they are your cards!" His eyes went wide at her suggestion, making her laugh again. He was clearly not understanding that she would do nothing with the cards.

"I don't collect them. So you can keep them all." Tilda would murder her if she could hear her right now, and would probably act dramatically betrayed that her sister was offering cards to anyone other than her. But Tilda wasn't here right now.

"Why do you not collect them?" He looked at her puzzled, as if she was the strangest thing his eyes had seen.

"I don't know." She told the truth, not really knowing what else to say to explain her lack of interest in the collectible cards.

"Oh, you should!" He laughed, his eyes sparkling in anticipation as he looked at the box of unopened chocolate frogs as if it was the best and largest Christmas present ever. "You open one, and then I open one?"

"Sure." She agreed, letting her own hand reach out for another of the chocolate boxes. There were only three left so she knew the excitement would not last for long.

"You have to close it up tightly before the frog has a chance to jump." He instructed quickly, sounding almost too eager.

"I know." She chuckled, fingers quickly unwrapping and resealing the frog, turning the new card in her hands.

"Balthazar." She read out loud, watching as Legolas made a face at the name. "You already have it?"

"Four times already." He added, her eyes growing wide momentarily. How many cards did he have!

"Alright, your turn." She passed the box to him, watching him quickly- and almost too expertly- extract another card from a frog before it could jump, making that funny disappointed face again.

"Merlin." He announced, handing the card back to her, the portrait of an old wizard with a long silver beard looking back at her, the expression in his face seeming to point that he was in a bad mood.

"How many times do you have this one?" She almost did not want to hear the answer, and yet she was too curious to hear the number.

"Eleven."

"Eleven?!" She could not help but reply. "How many cards do you have?!"

"Many." She smiled sheepishly in return, shaking the snow from his gloves.

"And you haven't completed the collection yet?"

"No." He shook his head, eyes looking back at the box, where the last unopened frog rested. Sighing, and deciding against asking any more questions, Sigrid reached out for the frog, quickly opening and closing the wrapper, taking out the last little card, already knowing that he would have it at least four times already.

"Morgana." She read out loud, making a double take at the sudden change of expression on his face, large blue eyes going wide, mouth slightly agape.

"Can I have it?" He asked so quickly that she could barely understand his words. "'Please, please, please! I'll trade you!"

He was talking so fast he was given her barely any time to reply at all, his eyes looking at the back of the car din her hand as if it was made of gold.

"Please. I'll trade you!" He suggested, eyes lighting up so much, once again oddly resembling Tilda. "I'll trade you for any of my cards. _Any!"_

"Woa, woa." She threw her hand sin the air in a gesture for him to calm down, but he kept insisting. "What is so special about this card?"

"Please!" He kept pleading, nearly jumping up and down. "It's the one I was looking for! It's the one I need! I'll show you _all_ of my cards and you can pick _any_ you like return! I'll even give you two cards for that one!"

"I don't know." She smiled, figuring out that a little teasing could do no harm. "Seems like a very special card….maybe I'll keep it…."

"No! pleeeeeeeeaseeeee, Sigrid!" He begged her, suddenly rising up to his feet and pulling her impatiently along by the sweater for her to stand up to. "Come on, I'll show you my cards and you'll change your mind! Come on!"

In a flash he was pulling her by the hem of the sweater at a surprisingly fast speed, her feet nearly tumbling on the heavy snow in order to keep up. Her heart nearly skipped a bit as she saw the giant house coming closer and closer, Legolas guiding her inside a large pair of front doors in such a rush that it barely gave her time to protest.

"There's nobody home." He added the second she opened her mouth to protest, her eyes wide as to where she was, and yet he seemed entirely relaxed letting her into his house. And then, his hand had let go of her sweater, his little figure disappearing in a dash up a majestic stairwell, leaving her awkwardly and nervously standing alone in the middle of the largest reception hall her eyes ever seen – except for Hogwart's of course.

She gripped her hands anxiously, eyes flying around the long pointed windows that managed to make the sunlight wash the room and paint so brightly it almost felt as if she was outdoors. The polished marble floor glistening in dim reflections every time she moved, each tile looking more expensive than her whole home was. Ahead, through a wide pointed archway in the wall she could see a vast sitting room stretching, only the edge of a rich pale gold carpet visible, and the back of a fine leather couch.

"Legolas!" She called out in as loud a whisper as she dared managed, not really wanting to find out whether or not the giant manor was really empty. Only silence met her ears, no sign visible of the boy that had so quickly dashed up the stairs. And she did not _dare_ following up such a staircase.

"Legolas!" She whispered again, a little louder this time. She jumped back a little at the sound of shuffling footsteps coming from a room to the left, her stomach clenching in sudden nerves. He had said the house was empty!

"Good morning, Miss" A high squeaky voice left the house elf that had suddenly appeared, large tennis ball eyes looking at her curiously, yet not as hostile as she would have almost expected. "Are you here with Master Legolas?"

She could see the caution in the elf's eyes, as if deciding whether or she was an intruder or a welcomed guest, and truth be told she did not know which one she felt like really.

"I..er….yes." She decided quickly, feeling the large eyes scrutinize her momentarily. Legolas _had_ dragged her inside this house, so she must be his guest, right?

"You must be Polly." She added in as friendly a tone as she could muster, watching in surprise as the elf shook its large head slowly.

"Linky is my name, miss." The elf added, still in that cautious tone, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. They had not one but _two_ house elves! Why?

"Oh…well, it's nice to mee-

"Here!" Merlin, she had never been so grateful to hear the younger Lasgalen's voice, footsteps rushing down the stairs, his figure suddenly appearing next to her. "I found them!"

"Oh, hi, Linky!" Legolas suddenly waved, as if for the first time noticing the presence of the house elf in the room as well. The later gave his master a polite smile before shuffling out of the room the same way he had come.

Without warning, the younger Lasgalen's hand had already gripped her sweater once more, pulling her along towards the enormous sitting room ahead, throwing himself on the floor and placing down the large metal box he had been carrying.

"I thought you said your house elf was named Polly." She mentioned, still slightly confused, lowering herself to sit crossed legged on the floor next to him.

"Yeah." He nodded almost disinterestedly, as if he was merely talking about the weather. " Polly is our house elf, Linky is in charge of Thran."

So many more questions popped into her head, but he did not give her a chance to ask any, quickly taking control of the conversation again.

"Look." He added the second she had sat down next to him on the cool marble floor, his hand lifting the wooden lid to reveal at least five hundred cards neatly tucked inside. "These are all my cards. You can pick any you like in exchange for Morgana. Please?"

She chuckled, slightly perplexed. She had never seen anyone owing a collection of cards this large! Instead, she pulled the clearly very coveted card from her pocket and handed it to him. She was not going to do anything with it anyway.

"You can have it." She laughed at his shocked expression. "I don't collect them, so I have no use for it. No need to give me any card in return."

" _Really?"_ He seemed too surprised to fully believe what she had said, taking the little card she had offered and looking at it as it was somehow more valuable than the entire collection he had in front of her.

"Yeah, sure. Just keep it." She nodded, making a mental note not to mention it to Tilda that she had given away what was apparently a rare card.

"Thank you!" His thin arms wrapped around her next tightly all of a sudden, given her so little time to react and nearly knocking her backwards. It felt strangely comforting, yet stills o surprising just how open and joyful this boy was, never caring about showing all of his emotions so freely, while his brother seemed to be covered by a wall out unbreakable ice on the surface.

Her hear suddenly stopped breathing as a sudden _pop_ echoed from the chimney at that precise second, her body suddenly freezing in place. Merlin, if she had ever wished to be invisible it was now! Two tall figures had materialized out of thin air on the impossibly grand fireplace, the fading green flames of floo travel waning off. Oropher Lasgalen stood as regal and intimidated a she did the only other she had seen him in real life. His dark blue robes, the color of night sky, pooled elegantly around him, the embroidery the finest her eyes had ever seen. Deep blue eyes, no that piercing icy shade of his sons, falling instantly on Legolas' figure, seeming to have yet to notice her.

But it was another pair of eyes that had rendered her immobile. Icy blue eyes, as cold as the frozen lake outside, pierced almost mercilessly through her, pinning her in place, unexpectedly looking hostile, distant, his face that perfectly serene marbled expression that let nothing through. His long silvery hair cascaded freely down his back, still dripping a few ashes from the floo powder. And yet, he looked oddly tired, neither his face nor his stance as hard and stoic as it usually was, the outline of purple shadows barely visible underneath his icy glare. Underneath the dark emerald of his cashmere sweater her eyes caught sight of white linen bandages covering his left hand, which he quickly placed behind his back, as if he had caught her peeking.

"Ada!" Legolas chirped instantly, a wide smile growing on his face as he jumped to his feet, and she once again wished to disappear, not knowing where else to look under the murdering glare of this icy blue eyes. What was wrong with him? Had it bothered him this much to find her inside his house? It was always like this with them, one day he was nice and the other he was throwing glares at her that would make people shudder.

A second pair of eyes landed in her direction, dark impenetrable blue, seeming to study her every feature, and for a second she felt the need to suddenly apologize, feeling as if she had something wrong, as if she had intruded in a house in which she was clearly not welcomed.

"Ada, this is Sigrid" Legolas' explained so casually, that wide smile still present on his face, as if he was merely talking about how his day had gone. "We were looking at my card collection! She gave me Merlin, but I already have him so many times, I wanted to show her. She's-

"A friend…of mine." The older Lasgalen brother interrupted, his voice as icy as his eyes, not having moved an inch from the fireplace where he had appeared. And yet, the older wizard's dark blue eyes flew suddenly in the direction of his elder son's voice, as if not having expected to hear those words, studying his son carefully for a few seconds.

"I…I' sorry..I was….in" She stuttered, rising to her feet, her hands nervously straightening her wrinkled maroon sweater, a finger pointing in the direction of the twin's house, as if trying to explain why it was she was even around.

"It's alright, Sigrid." The tall wizard addressed her, and she was surprised to find his voice not as cold as she had nearly anticipated. In fact, it sounded slightly kind, polite, as if he was not about to kick her out of his house for being there unwanted. And then, for a split of second his eyes turned around to gaze at his son, as if contemplating something momentarily. "Legolas and I have to leave shortly, but perhaps you would like to stay? Thranduil can show you ar-"

"No." The cold single word hurt like a knife to her chest, icy blue eyes throwing her one more murderous glare before he suddenly walked out of the room, his pace so effortless so elegant, never once glancing back.

His father's face remained an unreadable regal mask, and yet there was something ins his eyes that let her know that this had been precisely the reaction he had been expecting but had hoped not to get, giving her one apologetic polite smile. "Sorry about-

"It's alright." She added quickly, suddenly eager to leave this house. She should have stayed in the twins' house, snuggled with a book and a blanket. She had done nothing to merit this cold treatment form his part! "We're not…really friends…..we're just in the same class…"

The wizards' dark blue eyes narrowed in her direction this time, seeming skeptical of her words yet not adding anything to contradict her, only nodding his head once in return, eyes turning to glance at his younger son. "Legolas, come on, we need to be going."

"But, Ada…" Came the boy's complain, still too enthralled by his newly opened collection of cards.

"No buts, you said you wanted to come with me to pick out grandma's gift. Now come on."

Something inside her head suddenly clicked, just as she was slowly making her way outside the enormous living room. They had carried no packages with them. Their hands had been completely empty. Legolas had claimed they had been shopping for a gift for their grandma, but then why was Oropher Lasgalen now telling his son to accompany him to run that same errand. Legolas had lied. Why had had Legolas lied before?

"Can't Sigird stay? I'll stay with her!" She could hear the younger Lasgalen insisting behind her back as she left the room, perfectly imagining how his face must have looked.

"No, Legolas." His father's voice was soft, yet unyielding, and she could hear some shuffling around, as if a cloak had been picked up from a piece of furniture. And then, when he spoke again, the wizards voice had dropped nearly to whisper, her ears barely catching any of it as she exited through the door, ready to leave the house. "I said no visits in the house today. Your brother is not feeling well today, you know. He doesn't l-

"He never likes visits!" Legolas complained, sounded frustrated yet not truly angered. "We never have anyone over!"

"Now, that is not true, my son. But your brother doesn't feel well right now. I only ask that when-

"I know, Ada, only when's he's sick." Legolas' voice had dropped again as if he wanted to complain more and at the same time could not find it in himself to keep complaining about this. "But it's so often!"

"I know, Las." The father's voice sounded pained as he spoke, as if he too wanted to grant his younger son's wishes yet also needed to take care of his other son. "Perhaps tomorrow if he's feeling better? Then we can have your friends over. And we're going out for Christmas Eve dinner, remember? There'll be lots of people there. Now come and help me pick out a nice gift for grandma?"

"And hot chocolate on the way back?"

"And hot chocolate on the way back."

"Is Thran alright?"

"Yes." A lie. The voice gave it away so clearly she wondered if Legolas picked it up. The first lie in the entire conversation. She did not get to hear anything else, her feet already quickly carrying her outside the house in long strides, her boots sinking in the soft snow. All she wanted was to reach the twins' living room, and curl herself on the couch with a book, as she should have done all morning, waiting for the twins to get back, and pretend that she had never heard or seen anything she had that morning.

Hi there! Here's the next chapter! It was supposed to include the Christmas dinner and the lots of Thranduil during that day and night, but it was already getting so long that I decided to chop it into two parts. Anyway, let me know what you think!

Also thank you so much to Can't-Choose-A-Fandom, VanyaNoldo and Rose61393 for reviewed the last chapter! Thank you, each and every one of your comments means a lot to me and it makes me really happy to hear that you are still enjoying this strange crossover story hehe

Love,

Elena


	19. Gnomes

"Ow! Stop that!" She laughed as a third decorative pillow hit her square in the face, her eyes glaring – yet failing- at the elder twin. Elladan was kneeling on the wooden floor next to a giant box- completely covered with dust- his head disappearing inside as his hands continued to full out all different kinds of Christmas decorations.

"Ada should do this with magic." She could hear him complaining as he threw yet another decorative pillow- this one sporting a very _very_ green Christmas tree on it- in her direction, missing her by a quarter of an inch.

"Stop throwing stuff at me." She rounded the large couch, picking up the pillow from the floor and placing it neatly as it should be on one of the large cushioned seats.

"I dunno, I think it's kinda fun to do this." Came Elrohir's voice from the other side of the gigantic living room, his hands pulling put a large golden candlestick from yet another massive box. "I don't even remember we had this!"

"How many boxes do you have?" It had been at least three hours that the three of them had been going from box to box, and they did not appear to even be close to finishing! All around them, the living room resembled more of a battlefield than a beautifully decorated one. Christmas decorations lay scattered everywhere around them, her feet tangling at least four or five time with a garland that Elrohir had not taken the time to properly hang yet.

"Too many." Elladan's voice did not sound too amused about the prospect of spending his entire morning sorting through old boxes of Christmas decorations, throwing yet _another_ pillow that hit her in the back of the head.

"Dan! I said stop!" She called out, no longer finding his behavior funny yet not managing to sound truly angered.

"Oh! Look!" The younger twin suddenly exclaimed with a loud laugh, all pairs of eyes flying in his direction, only to find him pulling what seemed to be the ugliest Christmas sweater she had ever seen out of the open box. A layer of dust fell from the old worn wool, the color such a bright red that it almost looked orange. A large white snowman was knitted right in the middle of it, looking more as if someone had accidentally dropped ball of cotton on the sweater. "Dan, you should wear this for dinner tonight!"

" _You_ wear it!" the older twin narrowed his eyes at his identical copy, even though she could see him trying to stifle a laughter at just how ugly the sweater was.

"How are you three doing he-" The twins' father suddenly appeared through the large opening that led to the kitchen, stopping mid sentence once his stormy grey eyes landed on the mess of a living room. Almost immediately, his arms crossed over his chest, throwing them a look that almost made her want to apologize, one eyebrow raised high. "I asked you to help, not to make this more difficult."

"Ada, look!" Elrohir let out a laugh as he lifted the horrid seater for his father to see, clearly not at all bothered by the latter's reproach. "Dan is going to wear this tonight for dinner."

"Will not!" Elladan hissed but was thoroughly ignored by his brother and father, the latter's lips suddenly curving up in a teasing smile, looking at his elder son.

"Oh, Elladan, my son, you'll look so very handsome!"

"Ada!" the elder twin looked dramatically betrayed, his eyes sparkling at the exaggeration of his expression, making her laugh so much she could barely breathe.

"Can we help with something else, Ada?" Elrohir complained, looking absolutely bored of pulling things out of boxes, throwing the sweater carelessly back inside.

"You have done anything _but_ help." Came the wall wizard's deep voice, his eyes once again scanning the room as if he wanted to run away from scene.

A sudden _pop!_ Echoed from the fireplace at that precise moment, making all heads turn in that direction. A figure had suddenly appeared in the midst of pale green flames, brushing away stray ashes.

"I was about time you showed up." Elladan's voice called from where he was sitting on the floor, silver eyes smiling up at his younger sister.

"Arwen." Mr. Peredhel greeted with a wide smile, arms opening wide to embrace his daughter, who walked straight in his direction. Her long dark hair fell down her back in perfect waves, contrasting stunningly with her pale skin and grey-blue eyes.

"Hi, Ro, Dan, Sigrid." The Ravenclaw girl waved at them, off them replying a cheerful "hi" in return.

"Where is-" The twins' fathers eyes narrowed in the direction of the fireplace, only to slightly jump back as another _pop!_ Interrupted him, a smile breaking out on his face. "Ah, there she is. Hello, Elise, welcome in."

Another girl had suddenly materialized on the ample fireplace, her hands brushing away ashes from her skirt and sleeves. Large brown eyes lifted up to look at all of them, waving warningly in greeting gesture. She had seen the girl a couple of times around Hogwarts, always around Arwen, even though she had never really spoken to her. She had sandy blonde hair that she had pulled up in a ponytail, and her angled face was covered with an assortment of pale freckles that looked oddly endearing.

"Hi!" She said almost timidly, stepping out of the fireplace and stopping to stand next to Arwen, the latter's grey-blue eyes looking around the living room with a expression of sudden fright.

"What happened here!" She exclaimed, eyes following the collection of pillows that Elladan had managed to through on the floor, the garlands, candlesticks, and hundreds of bright red and gold ribbons scattered through the floor.

"Your brothers, happened." Mr. Peredhel pointed out, throwing both of his son's a look that meant that if they did not clean soon they would be in trouble.

"And Sigrid!" Elrohir was quick to include her, a finger pointing her direction, making narrow her eyes in his direction. She had been only one _cleaning_ after the twins!

"Elladan, Elrohir, step away from those boxes." Mr. Peredhel seemed to change his mind about ordering them to clean, one hand beckoning them to come closer, as if fearful that his living room would finally collapsed if he allowed the twins to keep pulling things out of boxes.

"Arwen, Elise, why don't you two help with the decorating." He instructed, taking some seconds before decided on what new task to assign to them. "The three of you, de-gnome the yard."

"What! No!" Elladan complained immediately, falling instantly silent the look his father threw him, which left no space for an argument.

Knowing better than to argue with the tall powerful wizard, the three of them scurried towards the large front doors, bundling up in scarves and coats as they went. She nearly fell over in her rush to put on her boots, forgetting that one of them was not laced.

Outside, the sunlight bounced off the white snow so brightly that she had to squint in order to see, the cold hitting her face and making her cheeks turn bright pink in return. For the first time since they had arrived, the sky was a clear pale blue, the heavy grey clouds that had covered it now completely gone. The frozen lake stretched in a white canvas to their right, the surface so smooth that it looked almost tempting, as if calling for them to step onto it. And still she could not help but feel a little disappointed at not finding a tiny figure zooming on a broomstick across it. she had half-expected it.

"I see no gnomes." she pointed out as she made her way towards the twins, who were standing just a couple of steps ahead of her. Her feet sunk a little past her ankle in the powdery snow, which flew in all direction every time they moved.

"They are in there." Elrohir pointing his index finger to the thick forest that lay in front of them, the one that lined the entire lake and separated their house from the Lasgalen's. "They are especially difficult to see in the snow."

"Got one!" Elladn's voice suddenly exclaimed, and only then did she realize that the elder twin had already made his way across a bunch of trees, kneeling on the soft snow. His hands suddenly pulled out a squirming creature by the ears, swinging it around in circles a couple of times before letting it go, watching it spin widely in the air before landing somewhere far from them.

"Fun." Elrohir's voice dripped sarcasms, letting her know that he though the task was anything _but_ fun. Still he made his way into the small forest, rounding thick tree trunks in the search for gnomes.

Letting out a sigh and bracing herself for the task at hand, Sigrid stuck her freezing hands into the warm pockets of her black coat, making her way through the tall trees. Some of them were so tall that she almost got dizzy of only imagining what it would be like to climb them. The bare branches stretched above her head like a beautiful frozen nest, thousands of little icicles hanging from them, reflecting the light in all sorts of colors.

She could hear the twins chasing after gnomes around her, Elrohir cursing under his breath as on scurried away just past his left leg. Her eyes scanned the snow-covered ground around, feeling as if she was walking in circles, trying to catch sight on any movement. Something dashed past her left ankle, making her turn so fast in surprise that she managed to lose her footing on the powdery snow, falling down on her bottom. Elladan's laughter roared some distance behind her, but she barely had time to throw him a deadly glare before hurrying back to her feet, watching the creature about to disappear from her view.

"It's getting away!" She muttered, trying to catch up with the creature that was a little too fast and agile for her.

"Go, Sig!" She heard Elrohir hollering from some distance, Elladan cheering mocking next to him. "You can do it!"

But she was not paying attention to them. No. Her full attention was focused on the creature that kept dashing left and right, zig zagging through the forest as it knew it by heart. She nearly fell backwards as she fit her cheek with one of the lowest branches, not really having noticed it, her blood boiling in sudden anger as the creature stopped for a second to let out a squeaky mocking laughter at her.

"Oh, you, little…" She didn't finish the sentence, throwing her arms at the snow in an attempt to catch the mocking cursed little gnome, but the creature was once again too fast for her, quickly dashing away and rounding trunk to her right.

Oh no, she was not going to let it win! She was not going to let it mock her! Rushing back to her feet as fast as she possibly could, she dashed behind the fast creature, somehow managing not to run into any tree trunks in her way, even though she was very close a couple of times. She had long ago left the twins far behind her, but she did not really care about that, she would find her way back through the small forest once she had made sure this little gnome was no longer around! It flew left, then right, and then she made her move, having roughly calculated the distance. She lunged herself onto the snow face down, arms stretched in front of her, ready to grab the little gnome, snow falling into her eyes and mouth.

"No!" She muttered in frustration as her hands caught nothing but freezing snow, blood boiling once more as she heard that mocking squeaky laugh of the gnome now far away to her left. That nasty little fast creature!

A sudden quiet chuckle made her freeze momentarily, her eyes going wide. For the first time she noticed that the thick foliage around her had suddenly cleared, and she was lying face down on the snow right in front a huge front porch. She cursed mentally, heart skipping a beat as eyes landed on the familiar lone figure sitting comfortably on one of the porch's couches. Icy blue eyes were looking at her silently, sparkling with mocking amusement as he studied her carefully. His long silvery hair fell over his shoulders, pooling over his dark grey scarf and black sweater that looked a little too expensive. A thick woolen blanket was draped over his legs, which were stretched on the couch, a book lying momentarily forgotten on his lap. For as second she didn't' know whether she felt more embarrassed at her current predicament, or angered at him and his behavior from the day before.

"It ran away." That deep musical voice floated effortlessly through the air, his chin almost lazily pointing in the direction in which the gnome had scurried off, icy eyes still partially mocking her, seeming a little too amused at her expense.

She rose awkwardly to her feet, taking her time in brushing away the snow from her clothes, trying to think on anything to say to him that did not involve yelling. A long second of silence stretched heavily through the air, and she tried not to wince as she felt those piercing blue eyes still fixed on her, always silent, unreadable.

"You didn't do a very good job." His velvet voice called softly from where he was sitting, and she could hear that familiar teasing note in it that always made her lose her temper.

"Why do _you_ not try and catch it?" She snapped, brushing the snow from now entirely messed ponytail, golden curls already falling from it.

He chuckled again, that beautifully enchanting sound that made her want to suddenly hit him. And then, without a word he lifted his left arm as a silent explanation, her anger momentarily disappearing at the sight of white linen bandages still peeking through underneath the dark sleeve of his sweater.

Another long silence stretched between the two, and she tried to decide whether or not to simply leave. And yet she remained standing there, feeling those piercing eyes still fixed on her. She felt as if she should be yelling in ager at him, demanding him an explanation for his behavior both the day before and during the Yule Ball, and at the same time she could not stop the way in which his mere regal presence made her feel momentarily frozen, odd butterflies dancing uncomfortably in her stomach. She could never predict his reactions, could never predict whether he would be cold or open to talk. No, that was no excuse for his behavior. Making up her mind, she lifted her head to face him, however, he interrupted her the second she opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm sorry." His voice was honest, icy blue eyes still piecing through hers, crystal irises impossible to see through yet oddly not cold. It was the same look she had only gotten to see a few times, on those occasions in which he had been more friendly, that softer side of him that nobody got to see.

She nodded her head, accepting his apology yet not entirely, looking straight into those penetrating eyes that not left hers. "For your horrid behavior yesterday, or for your horrid behavior at the Yule Ball?"

"Yesterday." A flash of anger flew through his eyes for a split second at the mention of the Ball, disappearing only seconds later, letting her know that he was not going to apologize for that. And for the moment she decided to drop it, even though her anger had not entirely dissipated.

"I….I wasn't feeling well." His voice lowered a little as he explained, even though his face remained that perfectly serene expression that let nothing through, her anger only rising at the excuse he was giving her. Oh no, she was tired of this, tired of him using his injury/sickness as an excuse to be angry and lash out at her for merely knowing about it.

"You promised that if you told me what it was you would not-" She stopped herself mid-sentence, shoving her hands inside her pockets. Of course. Another though had suddenly crossed her mind, her eyes still glaring at him but less strongly now. It was because she had been in his house. It was so obvious that she nearly kicked herself for not having though about it before. He had not been well, meaning that his humor was beyond foul and had found her inside his house. It was so like him, all these barriers, all this walls. He never even spoke about himself, not letting any kind of conversation drift beyond small-talk.

"I am not angry that you know." He said, his voice as low as it had been before, honest ice blue eyes lifting up to meet hers once more.

"It's not my fault you were not feeling well." She pointed out firmly, taking a few steps in the direction of the porch, watching him through the elegant railing. "Don't lash out at me for that."

"I know." Was all he said, but it was enough for her to drop the subject momentarily, letting the silence settle heavily once more. Perhaps she should really leave, she still needed to finish chasing after gnomes, and it did not look as though he would say anything else.

"Would you like to come in?" The unexpected question hit her by surprise just as she had turned around to leave, her brow eyes landing on his perfectly calmed face, trying to read anything through it but once again failing.

She opened her mouth but closed it again, trying to make her mind. She didn't want to be kicked out again from that enormous elegant manor, nor did she wanted to run into his intimidating father again by any chance, for him to find her once again inside his house.

"I…" She stammered, her thumb pointing towards the forest through which she had come. "I have to….to finish…"

"We both know you will not catch one." He mocked her, that smile, so small yet somehow real curving on his lips, the one that was not perfectly practiced.

She took in a long breath, eyes drifting once to the forest stretching at her back. She guessed the twins would not notice her absence for a little while…assuming she was still chasing after gnomes.

"Fine." She agreed, hands playing nervously with the hem of her coat as she made her way up the couple of wide steps leading to the porch. In an elegant move, he had risen from the couch, forgetting the blanket and book in a heap, walking to meet her by the large main doors.

She had already been inside the house, only the day before, and yet it felt as though she was entering for the first time, her eyes feigning a little too much interest in the grand entrance hall in an attempt not to look at him. Meeting him at the library every other week to share notes was one thing, but hanging out with him in his own house was definitely another. It as if they were…..actually friends.

"This is the living room." His musical voice carried over the impossibly tall walls as she followed him inside the spacious living room she had seen the day before. And it once again impressed her, so many windows filtering the light making it feel almost outdoor. Her footsteps were muffled by the rich carpet underneath her feet, her eyes landing on a fine leather couch and a couple of large cushioned seats by the largest fireplace she had ever seen. And yet, it was only then that she noticed that the absence of any fire dancing in it, the room seeming to be heated by some other kind of magic or spells. A massive Christmas tree lay to one corner of the room, perfectly decorated with an assortment of gold and silver ribbons, and she could see a bunch of presents resting at its base. There were six or seven frames with moving pictures on a countertop to one end of the room, but she was too far away to really look at them, following Lasgalen as he made his way through the room.

"This way is the kitchen." He showed her to another side pointed arch opening on the wall, leading an airy large kitchen, but he did not go inside, as if finding no interest in it.

"The dining room." He continued, moving through the giant house into a room with a table that could seat about twenty people. The expensive wood had been perfectly polished, reflecting the light in bright shades, line with perfectly placed high-backed chairs. Even imagining sitting down here to eat was already intimidating her, feeling too formal.

"Do you actually eat here?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop her, followed by a light quiet laugh from his part.

"We eat in the kitchen." He clarified, and that somehow made her feel better, more normal.

A sudden meow made her nearly jump in surprise, her eyes landing on a white and grey cat that had made his way into the room, scratching its paws against the rug.

"Your cat?" She guessed, turning around to look at him, remembering that he had previously mentioned he owned a cat.

"Yes." He nodded his head, eyes following the feline as if rushed past their legs and in the direction of the kitchen, clearly not interested in socialized.

"Where's your brother?" she asked as she followed him back to the living room, for the first noticing the silence that bathed the giant house.

"With my father." He explained lowering himself elegantly on one of the leather couches. "Still buying last minute Christmas presents. Should be back shortly."

She chose a seat not too close from his and yet not too far, the cushions surprisingly soft, nearly swallowing her. "You didn't want to go?"

"Wasn't _allowed_ to go." She shrugged, even though she did not miss the way in which his eyes momentarily looked down at his bandaged arm, making her almost felt guilty for asking.

"How's…." She used her finger to point at his left arm, not really finishing the sentence but he managed to understand her just fine.

"Painful." She had not expected him to tell her the truth, and somehow wished that he had not, even though he shrugged it off as if it was a casual thing. She didn't ask more details about it, figuring that perhaps he would tell her if he wanted to, but she would not push it. She wanted to aske so many things, what exacly had happened for such a curse to land of him, who had casted such dark magic in the presence of four year old, but she did not dare do it.

"You're still coming tonight for dinner, aren't you?" She didn't know why but suddenly the prospect of him staying home that night and not joining in the dinner seemed to make the grand dinner a little less exciting.

"Unfortunately." His voice sounded bitter about, suddenly making her again think of the twins and how they too seemed to believe that inviting the Lasgalens was the make to ruing their Christmas Dinner. What was wrong with them! Why did they hate each other so much!

"Hey!" She chastised him, narrowing her eyes at him. "We spent nearly all morning decorating the living room and then de-gnoming the garden for tonight, so at least fake to be excited about it."

" _You_ didn't do any de-gnoming." He pointed out instantly, that faint sparkle of mockery crossing through those ice colored eyes.

"I _would_ have, had you not interrupted me."

" _Really?"_ Those stunning icy eyes narrowed at her, and she knew that both of them knew that she would never have been able to catch that gnome, no matter how much she pretended.

"Look who's talking." She muttered, throwing him a fierce glance, not liking being told off no matter how much she knew she would never have caught that gnome. To her surprise, he arched a fair eyebrow high on his forehead, seeming to be slightly taken aback.

"I _can_ catch a garden gnome." He asserted, leaning back against the leather couch comfortably, his words making her let out a laugh.

"No you can't." She shook her head, finding his words and determination incredibly amusing.

"I _can_." He repeated. Clearly she was not the only one who did not like being told what she could and could not do. His ice blue eyes glance down at his bandaged left arm before fixing on hers, still so unreadable, impenetrable, yet not once cold, unexpectedly welcoming. "Not right _now,_ but I can catch a gnome."

"That is something I would like to see. When your arm is not hurting." She chuckled, not able to picture his elegant tall figure running around one of those nasty creatures.

He opened his mouth to reply, but he sudden sound of footsteps coming through the main door made his head fly in that direction, his expression still perfectly calmed, unreadable. They had five second warning before a small figure was already dashing inside the living room, throwing away his snow-covered coat and scarf on the empty couch, bright blue eyes sparking up at his brother.

"Hi, Thran!" Legolas smiled warmly, eyes landing in her direction before waving at her. "Hey, Sigrid!"

"Hi." She waved in return, her stomach already turning in nerves and dread as she could hear the light elegant footsteps approaching the living room. Oh, Merlin, why had she even agreed to come in.

She bit her lip, lowering her eyes as the tall regal figure of Oropher Lasgalen stepped into the room, his long pale green robes trailing behind him in graceful waves. There it was again, that powerful commanding aura that always surrounded him, almost majestic, a figure nobody would dare to cross or contradict. It was not difficult to imagine him once being Minister of Magic. Nobody would ever dare to question his authority.

His dark blue eyes swept over the figures sitting in the room, an she could see them widening slightly in utter surprise as they landed on her, sitting there on one of the cushioned seats by the empty fireplace. His eyes slowly moved again to his elder son, and she could see him putting the pieces together. This was it. She was about to be politely kicked out again. And truth be told, she wanted to leave, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, watched.

"Sigrid, was it?" His deep voice carried through the room, taking of his outer black cloak in the process, voice unexpectedly warm, not the hostile tone she had expected, even though his eyes still studied her in puzzlement, seeming to watch her every move, every feature.

"Yes, um, hi." She stammered, offering a smile in return, trying to mask her sudden nerves.

"Do you want to stay for lunch? We're making sandwiches!" Legolas' joyful voice suddenly chirped, bright eyes looking in her direction, making her want to sink further into the cushions and disappear. Lunch! She should really return to the twin's house before they came looking for her.

"I really should get going." She rose to her feet, eager to leave the house, when Thranduil's father suddenly spoke again, his words catching her completely out of guard.

"Please, join us. You're welcome to stay." He added, his voice once again unexpectedly warm, smiling kindly at her, somehow not matching the tall intimidating figure he was, making her confused.

"I'm sorry." She said truthfully, sticking her hands in her pockets. "I have to be back for lunch."

"Of course." Mr. Lasgalen nodded his head in understanding not pushing it further. "I'll walk you outside."

She felt overly self-conscious with the tall wizard following her steps as she crossed the room, lowering her heard nervously, focusing on the way in which her feet shuffled against the rich carpet.

"We got a gift for you." She could hear Legolas' excited voice narrating his brother, almost picturing the grin on his face. "But I'm not telling you what it is! It's a surprise!"

"You are welcome to come back and visit some other day if you wish." The deep voice of Oropher Lasgalen spoke softly once they had reached the majestic front doors, once again catching her by surprise. Why was he being so welcoming?

"It's ok." She said, waving a hand, grateful at his polite offer but not wanting to abuse. "I don't wish to impose."

"Please." His request made her blink a couple of times, losing her voice confused at the sudden pleading look concealed deeply in his powerful dark blue eyes.

"I…" She didn't know what to say, not understanding this sudden so very welcoming hospitality.

"He invited you inside, didn't he?" There was something on the older wizards eyes that she could not quite read, unable to mask the confusion from her face as she silently nodded her head, not understanding the conversation.

"I don't know who you are." He started again, his voice suddenly serious, yet there remained that strange gleam on joy in his eyes, once that she could not really place. "I don't know you, only that you are apparently my son's friend, of which I know he has barely any. But he invited you inside the house, and that is something he never does. So, please, you are welcome to return and visit any time you wish." More than an invitation, it was a plea…he _wanted_ her to return….why?

Here's yet another chapter! :) not a long wait this time!

Again, thank you, thank you kindly to VanyaNold22, Eryniel Greenleaf, Rose6193 and zazanga for stopping by a dropping comments. Truly your comments make my day! It really means a lot to hear that you are enjoying the story and these jolly little characters. This chapter is for all of you!

Love,

Elena


	20. Sparks

"Which one looks better?"

Her eyes lifted to where Arwen stood in the middle of her overly large bedroom, holding up a dress on each hand, both of them finer than anything she owned. On her right hand was slim pale grey dress with a beautiful white collar, which was adorned in tiny little pearls. The one on her left hand was a knee-length ultramarine blue dress with a a-line skirt, the long sleeves ending in a collection of thin silver liens that almost look like bracelets.

"You're wearing a dress?" Elise was the one to answer from her place sitting on one of the beds, trying to paint her nails in a dark purple color that nearly looked black. She had already changed into pants and an elegant wine red cardigan over her plain yet elegant black shirt.

"I like both." She answered truthfully, laughing a little at Arwen's excitement about that night. She had already bathed and changed, not wearing anything particularly special. Mr. Peredhel had told them that it was not to be formal event, nonetheless she had chosen her favorite long sleeves sweater of a pale silvery blue.

"I think blue." Arwen's voice echoed through the room, speaking more to herself than any of the, already placing the grey dress back on the huge wardrobe.

"Do you have a scarf that goes with it?" Arwen's pale grey-blue eyes looked in her direction, smiling at her warmly. Sigrid's eyes drifted to her messy unpacked trunk lying on the floor, not believing that there would be anything inside there that might help.

"I have a plain black scarf that might work." She offered, trying to remember what it was she had packed. "The others I think are too bulky, and the colors would definitely not match."

It took her a couple of minutes to rumble through her clothes, pulling out sweaters, pants and an occasional stray sock until. "Aha!, here, will it do?"

She watched Arwen's stunning eyes fall on the little black scarf before a wide smile broke on her beautiful face, carefully taking it form her hands. "Yes! It's perfect. Thanks, Sig!...I forgot to pack any scareves…"

"You left them at my house." Elise chuckled from her place on the bed, her warm brown eyes narrowing teasingly at her friend who had momentarily ignored her. "Sigrid, come here!"

"For what?" She eyed the Ravenclaw girl suspiciously, crossing the bedroom towards the ample bed where she sat. she had never really hung out with Arwen or her friends back at Hogwarts, but the few hours that they had spent there at the twin's house had been surprisingly fun, and she decided she like Elise, even though he barely knew her.

"Hands out." The blond girl instructed patiently, a wide smile playing on her face which held a look that was a little too sheepish. It took her a second to realize what was happening, her eyes suddenly falling on the little brush dripping dark purple nail polish coming closer and closer to her fingers.

"No way!" She laughed, quickly retrieving her hands, listening to Arwen's laughter in the background. "I like them the way they are."

"Come on, Sig! It'll look nice." Elise insisted, much to Arwen's apparent amusement and her own chagrin.

"That color looks like you dipped your fingers in a badly made potion." She pointed out, eying the blackish purple shade suspiciously.

"I think it'll look beautiful on you." Arwen shared her opinion, examining herself in the full length mirror as she zipped up her bright blue dress, which she had thrown over black tights that perfectly matched the burrowed scarf.

"Have you even looked at the color?" She called out, watching as Arwen's head turned in her direction, narrowing her eyes at her.

"I picked it out!" Was Arwen's reply, gracefully gliding in their direction, and Sigrid felt the dip in the overly soft mattress as she sat down to their left.

"Hands out." Elise instructed again merrily, and contrary to what she would normally have done, she followed the instruction, laying her hands neatly over the towel the Ravenclaw girl had laid out over the comforter, as to not stain it.

"I can't believe I'm allowing you to do this." She chuckled, already imagining all the ways in which Eowyn would tease her if she could see her right now. She missed her friend, especially now that there was so many people around.

"Elise!" She exclaimed when the Ravenclaw girl slipped and accidentally painted half of her little finger dark purple.

"Sorry, sorry!" The blond girl laughed it off, quickly picking a piece of tissue and expertly cleaning her finger before fixing her mistake.

"You are too pale for that color, Sig." Arwen suddenly added, her eyes gleaming apologetically as she bit her lower lip, eyeing the dark shade on her nails, which contrasted a little too much with her overly pale skin.

"Take it off." She nearly demanded, even though she knew there was no way they would listen to her.

She could hear the echo of voices suddenly appearing downstairs, easily identifying the deep baritone of the twins' father seeming to be talking to someone else. There were footsteps shuffling around on the wooden floor, whoever it was had arrived heading towards the kitchen.

"My parents are here!" Elise exclaimed, her deep brown eyes brightening up as she was able to identify the voices, fingers quickly closing the little bottle of nail polish, finally finished with her work.

"We should head downstairs." Arwen's fingers quickly combed through her perfect ebony waves- as if they needed any combing- quickly making her way towards the large wooden door.

Outside the room, the entire house smelled of ham and turkey and pie and a thousand other deserts and puddings, already making her mouth water in anticipation. Hundreds of candles had bene enchanted to float around the massive rooms downstairs, their flickering orange light giving out a cozy and welcoming area to the house. Somehow Arwen and Elise had managed to finished the task of decorating the living room that she Elladan and Elrohir had failed at, the room now beautifully adorned with hanging green garlands and a collection of red and golden ribbons. They had even managed to finish decorating the impressively tall Christmas trees, form which hung with and red striped candy canes. Christmas music was paying from a enchanted megaphone in one corner the room, the tune one she did not know yet soothing enough to make her insides feel warm and fuzzy.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a tall dark haired witch, who was wearing a little too much make up, and a somewhat short balding wizard chatting amicably with the twin's father in the kitchen. A young boy, probably about eight or nine suddenly dashed past her, her eyes catching sight of an unmistakable head of sandy blonde hair and large brown eyes. So that must be Elise's little brother.

"Wow, that's a dark color." Elrohir suddenly appeared at the living room's entrance, his silver eyes widening in mockery as he looked directly at her hands, making her feel a little too self conscious. She should never had allowed Elise to paint her nails.

"Shut up. It was Elise." She added quickly, crossing her hands across her chest in order to hide them from the mocking smirk of the younger twin, sitting down on the empty large couch.

The younger twin sat down next to her, looking incredibly handsome in his plain dark green seater and black pants, dark ebony hair falling loosely down his back. He helped himself to one of star shaped ginger cookies that were neatly lying on a plate over the large mahogany coffee table. In front of them, bright red and orange flames roared in the fireplace, dancing elegantly at the tune of the crackling wood. She heard a round of laughter coming from the nearby kitchen, Elrohir's silver eyes turning to look at her underneath a raised dark eyebrow.

"Whatever you do tonight, do not sit close to Mrs. Blackcove- Elise's mother." He chuckled, eyes throwing her a pointed look. "She has as huge nose that is somehow always sticking into somebody else's life, and before you know it she would already be pairing you with one of her many _many_ nephews."

That made her laugh, even though she made a mental note to remember and avoid the tall witch, just as another round of loud laughter erupted from the kitchen.

"There you are!" Elrohir exclaimed, silver eyes sparkling in unison with his teasing grin as his identical copy walked into the room. Unlike his twins' joyful expression, Elladan's silver eyes carried a slightly sour tone to them, as if largely annoyed at something, throwing himself down unceremoniously to her right, moving aside some decorative pillows.

"What's the matter with you?" The younger twin inquired, playfully throwing a decorative pillow- the one with the huge Chrsitmas tree embroidered on it- in his brother's direction, the latter easily catching it in his hands.

However, before he could explain anything, Arwen and Elise walked into the room arm in arm, whispering something to each other. The dark haired girl's eyes flew up to glance at her elder brothers, a teasing mischievous gleam suddenly playing on her face as she approached the couch, grinning in their direction.

"Your _best friend_ is here." Arwen's voice mocked, letting out light laugh that sounded more like a thousand tiny silver bells at the grim expression that crossed the twin's faces, walking away with friend and claiming the cushioned seats some space to their left.

She opened her mouth to ask what she meant but was interrupted by the sound of the massive front doors being opened in the distance, footsteps walking inside at the echo of Mr. Peredhel's welcoming greetings.

"Ah, I had bene hoping you would bring wine, Oropher." She could hear Mr. Peredhel's voice echoing from the doorway, a response she could not quite catch following. The witch and wizard who had been in the kitchen – Mr. and Mrs. Blackcove, suddenly appeared in the living room, the short wizard carrying an opened bottle of creamy eggnog.

"Hi sweetie." The witch, who she could now see did have a long pointy nose kissed her daughter's head – who looked nothing like her, thank Merlin- waving at Arwen and them before following her husband and sitting down on a tall table by one of the windows.

A pair of joyful voices drifted from the entrance hall, footsteps slowly marching to the living room, the twins' father suddenly laughing at something. Next to her, the twins looked as if Christmas had decided not to come that year, Elladan biting his lip as four figures suddenly appear through the wide opening that led to the living room. She fidgeted slightly on her place, eyes sweeping only once over the elegantly dressed three Lasgalens.

He had indeed come. Standing there just behind his father, with his long perfect silvery hair and icy blue eyes, his figure once again that familiar cold and distant aura. He was wearing a fine navy blue sweater, the collar of a pristine white dress shirt peeking out through it. There were no longer any bandages covering his left arm, looking as tall and regal ever, as if nothing had ever been wrong with him. Legolas was standing to his left, his bright blue eyes dancing around the room excitedly, lingering for a few seconds on the collection of candy canes hanging form the tree.

"Oropher, I don't know if you have met Rufina and Gary Blackcove." Mr. Peredhel's voice floated merrily through the room as he stepped inside it, making his way to the table where the witch and wizard were currently sitting, a king smile on his face. Thranduil's father followed him with ease, his elegant wine red robes trailing behind him, shaking hands with the other two people. "Their daughter is very good friends with Arwen. Rufina, Gary, this is Oropher Lasgalen, a good friend of mine."

"Pleased to meet you." The nosy witch smiled widely, showing her collection of pearly white teeth, her husband letting out a round of joyful laughter that reminded her a little too much of Santa Clause.

"Eggnog?" the balding wizard offered, seeming eager to pour the contents of his newly opened bottle to anyone who would accept, which the silver haired wizard politely declined, placing a few bottles of expensive looking wine on the table.

Mercifully none of the adults seemed to notice the uncomfortable turn that had taken over the couch and seats by the fire, where the younger ones were, seeming too jolly and comfortable in their own little gathering. Her eyes followed the elder Lasgalen brother as he crossed the crowded room, sitting down on one of the cushioned chairs as far from them as he possibly could without making it too obvious. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see the twins silver eyes glaring at him, Elrohir picking up another ginger cookie and shoving it inside his mouth.

"Hi!" Legolas waved merrily at them as he crossed the room after his brother, always content and at perfect ease wherever he was, so unlike his elder brother. They waved back at him, the twins even smiling, making it clear that whatever grudge they held was particularly directed at the elder of the Lasgalen brothers. A little to her left, she could hear Arwen and Elise laughing hysterically at someone one of them had said.

The twins' father had given a little flick of his wand, a line of elegant crystal glasses floating from the kitchen in their direction, and she could hear the sound of a bottle of wine being opened. "How are thing sat the Ministy?" she heard Mr. Blackcove initiating a conversation, her eyes settling momentarily on the dancing flames ahead.

"Ow! Rupert!" The little boy she had seen in the house before had suddenly thrown a heavy throw blanket right over his sister's head, laughing loudly about it before running in away, just in time as Elise rose to her feet in annoyance. The tune in the megaphone had changed, the long-nosed with suddenly starting to sing loudly along the lyrics of _"A Love Potion Only For You"_ horridly off key, making Elladan chuckle in mockery.

"Come sit with us!" She didn't know from where she got the courage to ask, her eyes looking in the direction of the two Lasgalen's brothers, Legolas having been narrating something none stop to Thranduil. Elladan's elbow hit her hard on the ribs, making it unable for her to conceal a wince.

"Ow!" She hissed quietly to him, rubbing the spot where his elbow had landed. "Stop that!"

"What are you doing, Sig?!" The elder twin muttered lowly at her, his silver eyes widening in annoyance.

"Trying to be nice!" She whispered in return, their voice too low for anyone else except Elrohir to understand their words.

"Well, stop that!" The younger twin joined in the muttering. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see a pair of ice blue eyes coldly fixed in their direction, silent, unreadable, and she bit her lip as she instantly knew that even though he could not heat their words their muttering was overly obvious.

"Are you really not going to speak all night?" She whispered in a rush, getting annoyed with this behavior and stubbornness.

"Not if we can avoid it." Elladan muttered in return, shoving another ginger cookie in his mouth, seeming to be too stubbornly set on his words.

"Why would you want Lasgalen to sit with us anyway?" Elrohir whispered in the same low voice, his voice nearly dripping in venom as he pronounced the name, silver eyes studying her.

"Because its Christmas, just be nice!" She hissed, gesturing with her hands. "And it's your house and you're being rude"

"Well, _we_ didn't invite him." Elladan crossed his arms, and she knew she had lost the fight, letting out a frustrated sigh. Across the room Lasgalen's piercing ice blue eyes were looking at them coldly, that aloof smirk that made people hate him so much present on his face, not seeming at all surprised or offended by the lack of hospitality he was receiving. Another round of laughter came from the table hosting the adults, the balding wizard banging his fist against he table.

"Where did you get these fudge cauldrons, Elrond!" Mrs. Blackcove was saying in the background. "They are the best I have tried!"

"Elladan, Elrohir, Sigrid!" Mr. Peredhels' kind voice suddenly called to them, rising up from his seat at the table after adding something to Mr. Blackcove with a smile, one hand beckoning them to approach.

"Take this outside." He instructed, the three of them following him inside the large kitchen. Her eyes widened at the sight of the delicious food piling over the many counters, the appetizing smells filling her nostrils. An amused smile broke on her face as her eyes fell on an enchanted sugar dispenser which was making white powdered sugar snow over a large spongy cake.

The twins' father handed Elladan a silver tray filled with marshmallows and pieces of square chocolates, Elrohir a bag full of long wooden sticks and a bucket of chestnuts, and her a little golden tray filled with a pyramid of assorted little desserts that she could not quite figure out what they were, but one of them smelled of fire whiskey.

"And the two of you." His silver eyes looked at his identical sons sternly, making her suddenly had the feeling that he had called them away not to help but to talk with them, bringing her along in order not to be too obvious. " _Do not be rude to our guests._ I don't care if you don't get along. Interact!"

"Fine." The twins muttered begrudgingly in unison, the three of them following the tall wizard's figure once again back into the crowded living room, the loud conversations filling her ears once more.

"Yes! Finally!" Arwen chirped the second her eyes landed on the tray of marshmallows that her brother carried in his hands, quickly rising from her cushioned seat and hurrying to sit on the elegant carpet by the roaring flames expectantly. Elise had joined her in a second, pulling her long sandy blond hair in a high ponytail.

"I want one!" Elise's little brother exclaimed loudly, running around the couch and throwing himself on the carpet next to his sister and Arwen, seeming impatient to get his hands on the marshmallows and chocolates.

She watched as Elladan set the tray on the carpet next to them, his identical twin sitting down next to him and depositing the little bag with wooden sticks in a place where everyone could reach. Sigrid hurried to place the little tray on desserts neatly over the coffee table, grabbing a couple of cushions from the couch and joining the rest of them by the fireplace.

"Marshmallows!" Legolas' voice echoed through the room, seeming to have just seen what had been on the tray, his feet already rushing to where they were, smiling brightly. "Can I have one?"

"Sure! Come on!" Elrohir was the one to reply, silver eyes looking at the younger Lasgalen slightly amused, even though she could see he forced a smile – very _very_ forced- in the direction of the older of the brothers, as if making and effort to follow his father's instructions- or not wanting his father to reprimand him anymore. Some distance behind her she could hear the clinking of glasses and another bottle of wine being opened.

"Let's go into the dining room. I think I have some more eggnog, Gary." She could hear Mr. Peredhel saying to his guests, the laughing adults stepping away of the room still carrying on their conversation, and she guessed that it was because whatever it was they would talk about, they would rather not have the "kids" around them.

"Come, Thran, there's marshmallows!" Legolas called behind his shoulder, his hand already reaching for one of the sticks and placing a little white marshmallow on the tip. Arwen and Elise were already sitting with their arms stretched, resting their impaled marshmallows over the crackling flames.

Her heart flipped a second as she watched the tall elegant figure of the elder Lasgalen brother slowly rising from his seat, gracefully making his way in their direction. His marbled face remained that perfectly calmed expression that was impossible to read through, eyes as silent and impenetrable as ever. He did not say anything, merely sitting down on the now empty couch directly behind them close enough to be part of the group yet not joining them on the carpet. Swallowing once, and eager to focus her mind on something else, Sigrid let her fingers reach for one of the long wooden sticks, placing a marshmallow on the tip.

"Careful with them, Sig, they pop." Elladan's teasing voice chimed from her direct right, silver eyes gleaming mischievously at her.

"They what?" She asked, suddenly skeptical about placing any of these on her mouth.

"On the fire." Elrohir finished, his grin matching his twins', placing not one but two marshmallows on his stick and inserting them in the fire. "We enchanted them. Some of them will pop, but we don't know which ones."

She was about to ask what he meant when A sudden pop! Echoed from the fire, followed by a small explosion of sparks from what had been a marshmallow and a loud squeal form Elise, who had dropped her stick in the fire in fright. Nearly every single of them erupted in laughter, Elise joining in once she realized what it was that had happened.

"Why am I not surprised?" Elise's voice commented in between chuckles, throwing the twins what wanted to be a glare but seeming too amused to be to be angry. Hesitantly, she placed her own marshmallow over the flames, wincing slightly as she expected a pop, but luckily for her it did not come, letting her relax once more.

"Will you not join?" Elladan's cold voice called over his shoulder, flaming silver looking up at the quietly sitting elder Lasgalen brother, the sound anything but welcoming. Thranduil's ice blue eyes lazily drifted in the direction of the elder twin, silent, distance, only shaking his head as a reply before turning away, clearly not interested in joining. She had to grad Elladan by the arm before he could stand up and throw a fist at the older Lasgalen brother, even though she herself wanted to yell at him for this obnoxious behavior of his, always so distant, disinterested. Could he not make an effort and fake?

"Let it go." She whispered quietly to the elder twin, making it clear with her eyes that she did not want a fight to break out. "Perhaps he doesn't like marshmallows." She tried with a shrug, waiting for the elder's twins sudden anger to slowly cool off. And yet, Elladan's silver eyes threw a look that let her know that her attempt to find an excuse to calm him down was poor.

And yet, something else had suddenly clicked inside her head as her eyes stared at the little white square roasting on the flames at the tip of her long wooden stick. The flames, the way they danced and shifted their oranges and reds and alluring waltz that flickered unpredictably. It was the fire. There was no way Thranduil would get any closer to the fire than he already was, unbeknownst to everyone else.

 _Pop!_

She yelped in surprise, dropping her stick as a cloud of sparks erupted form her marshmallow, showering over them. Laughter follow immediately, accompanied by a squeal from Elise and Arwen, who had been as surprised as she was by the sudden explosion. She ventured a quick glance behind her back, her stomach tying into a knot as she caught a flash a fear cross Thranduil's icy blue eyes for a split second before it once again disappeared in that perfect mask of calmness, his body only ever so slightly tense.

She saw Elrohir stick one of the marshmallows in the fire for a few seconds, testing it with his finger at the edge of the long wooden stick to see how hot it was before sticking it out and throwing it at his sister. The marshmallow exploded with a _pop!_ and a cloud of sparks at the collision, Arwen letting out a shriek in surprise, quickly rising to her feet before glaring fiercely at his brothers who were now laughing loudly.

"Stop that!" The dark-haired Ravenclaw yelled through a badly concealed chuckle, the sparks finally dying away until she was able to sit down properly.

"How did you know it was going to pop?" she asked the younger twin, who was laughing so much he could barely breathe.

"I didn't. I threw it waiting to see what happened and it did pop!" He was barely able to speak through his hysterics, and she could see Elise eyeing the tray of marshmallows suspiciously for a few seconds, as if trying to carefully decide which one to pick.

She was sticking yet another marshmallow on her stick when she caught sight of Elladan suddenly teasingly throwing one of the marshmallows from the tray in Thranduil's direction, the later immediately hurrying away in a move so quick that she had barely seen it, the marshmallow landing innocently on the couch's cushions, where it stayed. Both of the twins erupted in laughter once again at the elder Lasgalen's reaction, making her want to slap them both.

"It's only a marshmallow, Lasgalen!" Elrohir teased between rounds laughter. "Relax."

Ice blue eyes glared at the twin's so fiercely that she even felt herself cringe at the murderous gaze, and yet. And then, without another word he walked out of the room, her eyes staring at his back as he retreated.

"He's always so much _fun_." Elladan commented at the retreating Lasgalen in a voice low enough only for her and Elrohir to hear. "Can't take a joke."

"Where's he going?" She couldn't help herself from asking, her curiosity too great, part of her disappointed that he had left the room.

"Don't know, and don't care." Elrohir added, sticking another marshmallow in the fireplace.

"Why do you hate him so much?" She finally asked, all previous fun she had been having suddenly gone from her voice. She hated this, hated having to choose sides, hated not being able to be friends with Lasgalen without them reacting badly to it, hated that they despised each other so much!

"Why don't you?" Elladan asked, silver eyes narrowing at her suspiciously. "He's a Sl-"

"He's a Slytherin doesn't count!" She hissed in that same low voice, anticipating what he was about to say. "It looks like your parents get along!"

"He's always like this every time they come for Christmas dinner. The fast five years have been great because he did not come." Elladan muttered in return, rolling his silver eyes in the process. "Can never take any of our jokes, always getting angry at them. Thinks he's so special, overreacting at every tiny thing or prank as if we had attempted to _actually kill_ him and it somehow always ended with us being reprimanded either by Ada or by his father, who is somehow always hovering over his precious son as if he were made of crystal. I have no interest in getting along with him."

"Well, its _Christmas Eve!_ And five years ago you and Ro were nine! You both are fourteen now! So at least pretend?" She rose from her spot at the carpet, ignoring the strange look both of the twins were throwing her, making her way out of the room. She knew she would be questioned later but right now all she wanted was to clear her mind.

Suddenly so many things made sense inside her head, even though there were still a thousand new questions appearing. She knew the twin's jokes, and they somehow always ended in fiery sparks or clouds of smoke. It was no surprise that Thranduil would not react well to them, even though it seemed clear the twins didn't know.

She found him sitting outside by the steps of the porch, not seeming to be cold despite the fact that he was not wearing a coat and it was below freezing point outside. His head turned in her direction at the sound of her approaching footsteps, that teasing smile of his appearing on his face as a silent greeting. She reached his side in complete silence, lowering herself on the steps next to him, not knowing what to say.

The darkness outside was oddly comforting, the silent forest so lulling in contrast to the laughter and bright aura inside. The Pale moonlight reflected dimly over the lake's frozen surface, making the silver tones of his hair stand out. An owl hooted in a nearby tree, followed by the flapping of wings and the sudden swaying of branches.

"What happened to your hands, Bowman?" His melodic voice broke the silence, a raised eyebrow mocking her as his ice blue eyes landed on her nails. Oh, she was going to murder Elise!

"Elise painted them." She shrugged, making a mental note not to ever let that girl close to her whenever she was holding a bottle of nail polish.

"That's a….. dark color." He continued to mock her in that tone so familiar to her, making her narrow her eyes in return at his light chuckle.

"I was going to take it off." She explained, crossing her hands over her chest to shield herself form the freezing cold. "But Elise's parents showed up and we had to head down."

"Why did you leave your merry gathering?" His voice was laced in sarcasm as he spoke, making it clear that he had not considered the gathering fun in the slightest.

"Why did you?"

His eyes narrowed in her direction, but no explanation came, even though she did not need one, merely looking at the night forest ahead.

"I know you don't like the twins, but they are really nice and good friends once you know them." She tried, but based on the unyielding look on his ice blue eyes she knew the battle was lost even before she had started it.

"If you have come here to lecture me about how great the twins are, I'm not interested." He didn't look at her as he spoke, even though his voice was surprisingly not cold as he said those words.

"Can't you at least pretend to like each other?" She tried again, but she knew it was futile.

"Do you want me to go back there and sit in the carpet by the fire and wait for marshmallow to explode in showers of sparks at me, Bowman? Is that it?" Ice blues eyes turned to look in her direction underneath raised eyebrows, only making her frustration grow. "Sounds like a _lot_ of fun. You know, I had been wondering when will I get to go again to St. Mungo's, I really can't wait. Perhaps thanks to the twins' fiery sparks it might be tonight!"

"You know that's not what I meant." She added with a sigh, dropping her eyes, her stomach twisting painfully at his words. She had never heard him mention the hospital out loud, let allow speak so casually about how much he frequented it, the edge of bitterness in his voice making her heart sink, even though she knew it was not directed at her. Something was off, she could tell by his sour mood for the past few days, but she did not dare ask. "You know they didn't mean any harm. They don't know."

"I know…" His voice lowered, eyes getting lost on the forest ahead, a long second of silence stretching between the two.

"I brought this." She suddenly remembered, retrieving a little bag of every flavor beans from her pockets, the one that her dad had given her in the small package the day before. She had taken it down to the living room with the intention of sharing it with the twins but had forgotten about it.

His ice blue eyes threw the bag of candy a suspicious glance before lifting up to meet her, that mocking smirk once again appearing on his face. "Those are disgusting, Bowman."

"Not _all_ of them." She added, opening the little box carefully without spilling the beans. "Depends on your luck."

"I don't like candy." He reminded her, having no intention of taking any of the little beans from the bag.

"I don't like flying." She added quickly, watching as a silent chuckle left his lips.

"What kind of person doesn't like flying?" He shook his head again, eyeing her once more as if she was overly strange.

"What kind of person doesn't like candy?" She threw back at him, watching a smirk cross his face at her words.

"Your point?"

"You made me fly nearly against my will." She reminded him, not adding that she had to admit it had been one of the most fun nights of her life. "Now you have to try these."

"I _have_ to?" He was mocking her now, one eyebrow raised high on his flawless face at her choice of words.

"Fine." She muttered, not about to let him test her patience. "I'll eat them all by myself."

"Go ahead." He shrugged, letting out a light musical laugh, looking as if he had no intention in even trying the little pieces of candy.

"Fine." She stated, picking out a random little bean and sticking it into her mouth.

"So?"

"French Toast." She announced victoriously, silently thanking Merlin that she had had good luck that time.

"Are you telling the truth?" His eyes were studying her suspiciously, as if almost expecting her to spit out the bean complaining of a horrible taste.

"Why would I lie about it?" She laughed.

"Because your taste in candy is questionable, Bowman." He said, her eyes immediately narrowing at what the was implying.

"Really?" She asked, unable to conceal her annoyance. "You're going to bring up that _again_?" Did he not have anything else to say than to make fun of her for that time months ago when she had picked out a badly tasting sugar quill.

"I didn't say it." He defended himself, even though she could see the mockery gleaming in his ice blue eyes.

"You thought about it." She pointed out instantly, closing the little box of beans a little too forcefully, making a few beans fly in every direction.

"You read minds now?" He faked surprise, even though she could see him stifling a teasing sarcastic laugh. "You must do so well in Divination."

"Why do you make it so complicated to talk to you?" She snapped at him, not able to believe they were back at mocking each other in this endless questioning.

"You get angry so easily." He chuckled, leaning back on the heels of his hands.

"You always to this." She hissed, at the end of her patience, too annoyed at his constant unnecessary teasing. "Can't you talk to me without needing to mock me? Just when I think you might actually be nice to be around."

She rose to her feet, eager to return to her friends and the cozy warm living room, but a hand suddenly curled over her right forearm, gently, stopping her from moving.

"Don't go." The unexpected request caught her by surprise, those endless icy blue eyes looking at her softly, all trace of mockery suddenly gone from them. Every single coherent thought was telling her to return inside the house to where the twins and Arwen were, to not sit here through another round of mockery and teasing that was about to follow. And yet, she sat down again, folding her hands over her knees.

"Why?" She asked him, her large brown eyes looking straight into his piercing ones, studying him closely yet reading nothing. "Why would I stay here and suffer through your mockery?"

And then he las leaning closer to her, her heart flipping widely inside her chest, her whole body paralyzing. She didn't know what to do but she could not move, his face suddenly so close to hers, he eyes drowning in icy blue that was suddenly warmer than the roaring fire. She could feel her breath hitching, his face so close she could feel the tip of his nose brushing against hers, and then his lips were on hers, her body frozen in place, a wild cloud of butterflies dancing inside her stomach, her heart hammering loudly inside her chest like a caged bird, and she didn't' know what she was doing, every single coherent thought erased from her head, everything around her seeming to momentarily stop and disappear….

Hi there! Here's chapter 20! :) :) I hope you enjoy this first part of the Chirstmas Eve dinner. Tis not over yet since they haven't actually eaten dinner haha!

Again I can't say thank you enough times to those of you who left comments on last chapter! It really means a lot to me to know you are excited about the story and that at least someone is reading it. So again thank you thank you! Rose61393, Eryniel Greenleaf, Goddessofwarriorcats, Josei and VanyaNoldo.

VanyaNoldo: don't panic! The chapter is there! I know sometimes it takes a while for the chapter to show up even after getting the email for it!

Eryniel Greenleaf: Not a long wait! Can I still have Chirstmas cookies? Pleeeeeease? If you don't give me Christmas cookies I will hurt Thranduil! Not to sound threatening or anything ;)

Love,

Elena


	21. Nerves

All thoughts vanished from her head, the world around her disappearing momentarily, the only she could concentrate on was the incessant wild fluttering in her stomach, on his lips softly kissing hers, his warm breath caressing the skin on her face. And then, if was as if she snapped awake, a sudden rush of panic hitting her from out of nowhere. He was kissing her. He was kissing her.

Her thoughts snapped back to her at the sudden sound of the wooden maid doors being pushed opened behind her, immediately pulling apart but a second to late, her eyes landing on a pair of wide stunned grey-blue ones. She moved apart suddenly, blinking a couple of times, her reeling trying to process what had happened, even though part of her never wanted that kiss to end, her thoughts now jumbled mess she could not put in order.

"I was looking for you Sig. Just to let you know that dinner is served." Arwen spoke in rushed sheepish tone, standing there by the half-opened door, seeming to be making an effort not to let a teasing grin appear on her shock face, her eyes shifting to gaze at Sigrid, who immediately looked down.

"Oh, and your father is on his way to tell you the same thing, Lasgalen, so you two might want to sit slightly more apart." She added, her voice cracking in a little laugh at the end before she disappeared through the door, seeming in a rush to leave the porch.

Her heart skipped a beat, a sudden new rush of panic crossing to her body, her mind already imagining Arwen telling everyone else inside the house, and she was sure her face must have turned scarlet.

"I…No…"She stammered at the sudden confused looked that had crossed his infinite ice blue eyes, which were looking at her oddly welcoming, gentle, not that piercing frozen look they usually carried. "I can't…."

"I'm sorry…It's just.." She didn't know where to start, what to say, shaking her head slightly in the process, feeling a couple of her golden curls falls into her face. He had kissed her. They were…they were barely even friends… she could not even guess when he would be warm or cold towards her…and he had kissed her. "I…"

"It's ok….. you don't have to explain." He helped her, offering her a small smile, even though she didn't miss the sudden heart-wrenching hurt look that crossed his eyes from only a second. His ice blue eyes, the color of crystal blue oceans, fixed instead on the forest ahead, an odd silence following, filled only with the frantic beating of her frenzied heart and that cursed fluttering on her insides. And yet, he did not seem cold or distant, that freezing wall that almost always seem to cover him completely absent now. "Sorry if I crossed a line."

"No…I.." She had never struggled with words this much since her first year at Snape's class, when he had endlessly questioned her. She didn't want to be this confused, and yet strangely wanted him to kiss her again. But she barely knew him! "…Friends?"

"Now, that's a first." He let out a melodic light laugh, nodding his head, his eyes looking at her gently, softly, welcoming warm ponds of icy blue, even though she could still see a faint lingering trail of sadness in them.

She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again once she found nothing to say, not knowing what to do, her mind fleeting with so many disordered thoughts, her heart still fluttering like a caged bird. However, the sound of the large wooden front doors being opened behind her saved her from having do add anything.

"Dinner is served." A deep familiar voice announced calmly, her head turning to look over her shoulder at the tall figure of Oropher Lasgalen suddenly appearing through the cracked door. His dark blue eyes fell instantly on his son, a stern expression crossing over his handsome chiseled face. "What are you doing outside with no coat? Do you want to catch a cold?! Come inside both of you."

She didn't wait to be told twice, quickly rising to her feet and heading inside the house, momentarily grateful for the interruption and excuse to get away. At least to have some time to order her thoughts. She heard Thranduil rising to his feet too, but did not turn to look. It was as if in a single second her entire body had been consumed by a massive pool of nerves, her insides twisting and clenching even at the knowledge that he was right behind her.

The warms and brightness of the house felt incredibly welcoming, the freezing night air staying behind as the smells of thousands of dishes filled her nose and the soft melody of Christmas music caressed her ears. She could already hear the joyful loud voices coming from the living the room, a faint echo of pop! letting her know that everyone else as still entertained with the twins' popping marshmallows. She passed through there in the direction towards the dining room, barely even aware that Thranduil had gone somewhere else with his father.

"There you are!" Elladan's voice called loudly the second his silver eyes landed on her, that familiar warm grin that usually always meant trouble adorning his handsome face. "I was wondering whether you had completely abandoned us!"

"Just went outside for a bit." She shrugged, her insides once again assaulted by that bundles of nerves and flutter at the mere mention of that.

Legolas and Elise's little brother were the only two figures still huddled by the roaring fire, still popping the marshmallows nearly two at a time. Both of the twins were now lounging in the overly large couch, Arwen and Elise having disappeared somewhere else.

"I heard dinner is served." Elrorhir added in that ever playful tone of his, sounding a little too excited at the prospect of food.

"I know." She laughed at his expression, making her way to the large couch and sitting upon the armrest. "Why are you still here then?"

"There's no way we're leaving those marshmallow unsupervised." Elladan grinned, his silver eyes looking in the direction of the two boys still sitting on the carpet by the fire. "I don't want to know that'll happen if they somehow decide to throw too many at the fire….it'll be one big explosion."

"That sounds…..dangerous." She could not contain a laugh at what she had heard, even though she made a point to remember that. Whenever the twins said something could end in an explosion it must certainly _always_ ended in an explosion. Perhaps, now that she came to think about it, it was better that Thranduil had decided to leave this room.

"Yeah…don't let Ada know we enchanted the marshmallows." Elrohir was quick to add, lazily rising to his feet. "Otherwise we might never hear the end of it if he finds out."

"If I find out _what_?" a powerful musical voice echoed from behind, nearly making them jump, the tall dark haired wizard suddenly appearing at the ample doorway connecting the living room and dining room. His wise silver eyes, those that made her feel as she barely knew anything at all, were throwing his sons a stern warning look, one dark eyebrow raised high on his forehead.

"Nothi-"

Elaldan's words was interrupted by a sudden _pop!_ from little Rupert Blackcove's marshmallow, a wave of sparks exploding around the fireplace. The tall wizards eyes widened instantly, turning from silver to a furious storm grey, suddenly looking taller and massively intimidating.

" _What are the two of you thinking?!_ " She would have ran from the room had she not been suddenly petrified in fear at what was coming for the twins, definitely not wanting to call any attention to herself. "Do you want to injure someone! Playing with fire when we have guests in the house! Now get up! And clear all the marshmallows, I don't want to find _any_ lying around!"

Se hurried out of the room faster than she thought possible, still hearing the tall wizard reprimanding his sons as they begrudgingly put the remaining marshmallows away. The large dining table was already replete with an assortment of exquisite looking dishes on silver and golden trays, making it look nearly impossible to try them all. Tall fine crystal cups filled with pumpkin juice sat at ever place, along with an expensive-looking set of plates and silver cutlery. She was almost surprised to find Mr. and Mrs. Blackvoce already sitting there talking between themselves, Elise next to them. The blonde Ravenclaw did not so much as turn her head up in her direction as she walked inside the room, making her grab onto the hope that perhaps Arwen had not told anybody yet.

As if she had summoned her with her mind, the stunning dark-haired Ravenclaw girl suddenly appeared through the door that led to the kitchen, her grey-blue eyes throwing her a knowing almost too sheepish look as they met hers. The twins sister crossed the room in complete silence, elegantly setting down a tray full of grapes on the table – even though it looked like there was any space left!-

"This looks delicious." She had never been so grateful to hear the twins walking into the dining room, the two of them choosing seats at one end of the table, Elrohir motion for her to join them. She did almost immediately, picking out the seat directly to Elrorhir's right.

"Can I sit here?" Arwen had suddenly appeared, her eyes looking at her still with that mocking sparkle concealed in them, pointing at the vacant seat to Sigrid's right. "Or is are you expecting anyone else to sit by you?"

What? She nearly chocked at Arwen's words, even though she somehow managed not to turn bright red under the girl's knowing smirk.

"What are you talking about, Arwen?" Elladan shook his head, throwing his sister a slightly annoyed strange look, as if questioning her sanity with a roll of his eyes. Mercifully it seemed that neither of them had caught their sister's mocking tone.

"Nothing." The dark-haired Ravenclaw girl shrugged as if nothing had happened, comfortably lowering herself to sit on the high-backed chair. "Just wanted to check if it was free."

She turned to look at the dark-haired girl, throwing her a murdering look that almost wanted to threaten her into silence. Out of the corner of her eyes she caught sight of Mr. Peredhel entering the room, his silver eyes not missing a chance to throw his sons another warning look before sitting down at the head of the table.

"Woaa…." The little blond boy exclaimed as he appeared through the door, his born eyes, so much like his sister's landing on the piles of delicious looking food, Legolas appearing close behind. They rushed to take seats as far away from the adults as they could muster, and even though Legolas was a couple of years older than the boy, they seemed to be having a really good time judging by their laughs.

The only two missing figures walking into the spacious dining the kitchen, her eyes instantly lowering at the sight of his long silvery hair and silent ice blue eyes, his cold quiet façade once again in place. He followed his father towards the table, yet looking as if he had suddenly received a long stern lecture from the older wizard, judging by his suddenly sour mood and the way in which his father threw a single pointed look in his direction.

Mercifully the exquisite food and joyful aura floating around the room seemed to keep everybody busy, conversation quickly and easily flowing across the long wooden table, where nobody would notice just how nervous she actually felt. Next to her, the twins were piling food in totheir plates at a rate that would anyone believe they hadn't been fed in years. Arwen had not stopped throwing her mischievous knowing glances, no matter how many times she glared in her direction, having to resort once to elbowing the kicking the Ravenclaw girl's leg under the table in order to make her stop.

"Ow!" Arwen complained in a hushed whispered that only she was able to hear, drowned by a roar of laughter coming from Mr. Blackcove's funny figure, who in her opinion had already had a little too much eggnog. "What was that for?"

"Stop looking at me like that!" She hissed quickly, thankful that Elrohir was too concentrated on biting into a large piece of ham to listen to her.

"But it's so much fun." Arwen laughed in silence, her pale hands reaching for the silver bowl of creamy mashed potations and serving a whole spoonful on her plate. "Do you even know how much trouble you're in if I tell my brothers?"

"You will not do that." She whispered under her breath, suddenly smiling at the new piece information she remembered she knew.

"And why not?" Arwen narrowed her eyes at her suspiciously, making her smile softly before whispering in a low voice.

"You'll not tell unless you also want me tell them you have been dating their best friend for months now." She whispered, watching as Arwen let out a musical laugh.

"Fine." She agreed, nodding her had in complete silence. "I won't tell anyone, Sig. But you can't tell them about me either."

"I wasn't going to." It was her turn to smile. She knew she could trust the twins' sister, the dark haired Ravenclaw girl not really the kind to be gossiping around, even though she enjoyed teasing someone every once in a while, but it didn't mean she would go around spreading gossip. It was one of the things she liked about Arwen, that and the fact that she had somehow not once judged her or commented about why Lasgalen would ever have kissed her, not seeming to keep the same hatred her brother's did towards the Slytherin Seeker. She kenw Arwen would not waste a second that night to grill her with questions, but at least her secret was completely safe in trustworthy hands.

"You have very handsome sons." She could hear Mrs. Blackcove saying to Oropher Lasgalen at other end of the table, her beady eyes carefully studying the two silver haired boys just above her long nose, and she wondered if she was doing some kind of math in her head trying to find who in her family might be a good match for them. "You know, I think I have a very pretty niece that is just about your elder son's age! She goes to Bauxbatons, very very pretty young lady."

Next to her Elrohir nearly chocked on his pumpkin juice as he too overheard the conversation, Mr. Lasgalen clearly not amused either judging by the forced smile he gave the nosy witch.

"I told you to sit away from her." Elrohir added once he was able to breathe again, speaking in a low voice a barely moving his lips, making her have to struggle not to laugh.

She ventured a glance across the table, her eyes looking for his tall regal figure seating some distance to the right, just by the short balding wizard who did not even seemed to have noticed his presence. He was sitting in complete silence, nearly the only figure at the table not participating in any conversation. He was not really eating either, merely moving around food on his plate with his silver fork, taking only tiny bites every once in a while. Every few seconds she could see Oropher Lasgalens' eyes darting in his direction, so very discreetly that she wondered if anyone in the room could even notice, seeming to be carefully holding watch over him.

"Are you going to eat that?" Elrohir's voice made her eyes fly in his direction only to find him looking a the piece of ham still on her plate, her eyes narrowing in his direction.

"Yes, I am." She stated, stifling a laugh as she slid her plate a little away from the younger twin before her ham could mysteriously disappear. "Just get another piece! Don't eat mine!"

"The tray is already too far." The younger twin muttered under his breath, motioning with his eyes to where the golden tray filled with the exquisite ham was all the way across the table by Mrs. Blackcove's plate.

"You just don't want her attention to fall on you." She guessed with a laugh, throwing the younger twin a teasing smirk. Across the table, she could still see the nosy with bombarding Oropher Lasgalen with all sort of questions, some of them somewhat personal, the later looking as though he wanted to stand up and switch seats, but being too regal and polite to do so.

Thankfully, only a few minutes later the trays with food magically disappeared from the table, only to be replaced by hundreds of desserts, which they wasted no time on devouring. After the delicious fulfilling meal as over the figures in the dining room slowly started to rise and return to the grand living room, huddling in pairs or groups and continuing their conversations. She shook her head slightly as she saw Mr. Blackcove taking yet another bottle of eggnog.

Her stomach clenched again as she saw Thranduil Lasgalen stand up from the table in complete silence, walking into the living room without really addressing anyone. His ice blue eyes met her for a split second, and she was slightly taken aback by the lack of that cold freezing stare she had almost been expecting. But he didn't' says anything, both of the twins once again glaring daggers in his direction from their spots at the table.

The Christmas music from the enchanted megaphone in the living room had turned up in volume again, the high-pitched voice of a with singing merrily to a tune she had never heard before.

"Dad! Dad!" Little Rupert had run towards his father, nearly jumping up and down with excitement, the balding short wizard letting out another round of his roaring laughter. "Can we do the boxes on, please? Please? You said after dinner! please?"

"The boxes..sure! "The bald wizard laughed again, even though she had no idea what it was they were talking about. "But outside, come on."

Mr. Blackcove motioned with a hand, the little boy jumping in joy, his eyes quickly finding Legolas and grabbing him by the arm, dragging out in the direction of the front doors.

"Come on, everyone!" Mr. Blackcove suddenly called, his merry eyes sweeping through the figures of all the young ones in the living room. "Time for some of Zonko's Christmas laugh surprise boxes!"

she had no idea what those things were, but apparently the twins did because they were on their feet in an instant, the expression on their faces one that made her believe she better be wary about those boxes. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Mrs. Balckcove pulling out from under the tree a large bag full of what appeared to be square boxes of different sizes and colors, none of them revealing what was inside.

She followed the twins outside the house through the spacious front porch, having to blink a couple of times to adjust to the peaceful darkness outside. Legoals and Rupert were already out on the snowed grounds, running around and stopping every once in a while to throw snow balls at each other. The twins were quick to appear by her side, walking past her and out in the snow, followed by the laughing figure of Mr. Blackcove and his wife.

"Here! Here!" Mr. Blackcove called the attention of the two running boys, carrying three square boxes in his hands, the other still on the large bag his wife carried around with her. Arwen and Elise had also appeared on the spacious porch, walking down into the snow in curiosity, Elise seeming partially excited as her little brother about whatever it was these boxes were.

She followed them silently, her boots sinking in the freezing snow, which was still too powdery and soft. The freezing wind hit her face like a comforting hand, the faint echo of the Christmas music in the living room still reaching her ears. The house looked incredibly warm and welcoming from the outside, its many windows all lighted with that flickering yellow light that almost made you feel the comforting heat that was inside.

Up above their heads the sky was perfectly clear, no clouds covering the silver light of the full moon, which washed over the frozen lake in a collection of sparkling reflections. Her heart battered like thunder on her chest at the sight of the elder Lasgalen brother suddenly walking out into the porch, some distance behind her. She could not tell whether he truly wanted to join or if he had been forced to, but nonetheless he was there, slowly walking across de snowed yard and towards where they stood by the edge of the frozen lake.

Her attention flew back to Mr. Blackcove at the sudden sound of a collection of delighted shrieks and laughs. One of the boxes had suddenly exploded open, the purple one, a thousand of tiny purple confetti erupting high into the air, taller than their heads, while the box suddenly jumped as it let out a laugh so contagious that it even made her chuckle.

"That was a safe one." She heard Elladan adding the second she reached his side, his silver eyes laughing along with his grin as he looked at the now quieting box. She had no idea what he meant, and honestly would rather not find out.

"Now your turn!" Little Rupert was telling Legolas, handing the silvery –haired boy a bright apple green box, which the latter almost took a little too excitedly.

"I don't wanna open it!' The younger Lasgalen brother let out a nervous laugh, looking at the box in his hands as if he could not decide whether it was going to hug him or punch him.

"I'll open it!" Elise offered, raising her hand as though she were in class back at school. And that seemed to be the only thing the younger Lasgalen needed to get his courage and open the lid of the box.

He let out a surprised yell before throwing the box on the snow and jumping a couple of steps backs, a new round of laughter filling the forest. Out of the box had suddenly magically materialized a little elf, dressed in a pointy Christmas hat with a little bell on the top, and was loudly singing Christmas Carols as he jumped around in circles, banging onto everyone's legs. They all moved around, jumping left and right in order to evade the little magical creature, which only did a couple of rounds before disappearing in a sudden _puff!_ followed by a cloud of smoke.

"I'll do the next one!" Elise sounded a little too excited about it, quickly walking ahead and taking a bright turquoise box into her hands.

"I need gloves for this." She whispered to the twins, no longer feeling her fingers at the freezing temperatures. "Don't finish the boxes without me."

"Then hurry!" Elrohir added with a laugh, just as she quickly turned around and started her march back towards the house in long strides, sticking her frozen fingers inside her pockets. Behind her she could hear another round of delighted laughs and giggles at whatever it was that come out of Elise's box, only making her hurry her steps. She didn't want to miss the fun!

The house was oddly empty – and mercifully warm- inside, her feet quickly brushing away the excess snow on the front door mat before crossing the entrance hall in the direction of the wide wooden staircase. Something else caught her attention: sudden voices coming from the kitchen, speaking quietly yet loud enough for her to hear what they were saying perfectly clearly.

"What else do you need, Elrond?" It was Oropher's voice, sounding agitated, desperate, not that calmed powerful voice she had heard before. "More gold? I can make another donation. What can I do?"

"More gold won't change things, Oropher." Mr. Peredhel's calmed strong voice replied, followed by what seemed to be the sound of someone dropping down onto a kitchen chair. "No amount of money can do any difference. You know there's no cure for this."

"There has to be something." The blonde wizard added again, even though she could hear the unmistakable edge of hopelessness laced in his voice, the sound dropping down.

"I wish there was." Came Mr. Peredhel's reply, the sound somewhat pained, barely audible. "He's about to be sixteen. We didn't think he would make it to five. It's a miracle he survived in the first place."

"Well, buy him more time!" Oropher's voice suddenly snapped, followed by a short silence.

"I'm sorry, Elrond." Oropher added in a low voice, the sound was again hopeless, as if haunted by an excruciated torture. "I…I don't know what else to do."

"We're doing our best, but you know the curse won't stop trying to evade our attempts are restraining it." Elrond's voice still held that saddened tone that made her stomach sink deep inside of her, as if he was trying to be comforting but there was no comfort at all to offer. "He seems well today."

"Today." Oropher sighed almost desperately. "He had a fever yesterday, and the day before that. I could tell he was in a lot of pain, but he didn't say anything. This year's been worse than last. And I…." The tall wizard sighed, seeming to be trying to find either the words or the strength to say them.

"I can no longer just buy him a new race broomstick and watch as he forgets for a few seconds about everything else only to watch him laugh like any other boy his age, like I did when he was younger. Or bribe him with candy and ice cream after coming back from St. Mungo's to cheer him up. That worked when he was six or seven. He's tired, and in constant pain, and I can't do anything about it."

"Broomsticks worked miracles the first time around." Elrond added in that same calmed comforting voice. "Just like that cat you got him the first year in the hospital when he was five. It cheered him up enough for him to speak again after months of complete silence. Something else will come along. But you can't hover over him anymore like you did when he was a child."

"He was outside in the cold without a coat. He knows he'll get sick if he's not careful." Oropher sighed almost desperately, and she could hear the shuffling of a chair.

"His fifteen." Elrond added, still in that saddened voice. "He doesn't care about being careful. If you saw the _things_ my two sons do….It's the same-"

"It's not the same." Oropher snapped in a pained tone. "The difference is your sons will not end up in St. Mungo's not knowing whether they'll live or if a forsaken curse will finally kill them merely because they caught a cold for being outside in the snow!"

She didn't want to hear anymore, she couldn't hear anymore, her heart already constricting so painfully that she wanted to run, her feet suddenly dashing up the long elegant staircase, trying to focus on anything else, on getting her warm woolen gloves and walking out of that house, to where everyone else stood outside cheering and laughing around the boxes…

Here's chapter 21! :) (I really should be doing homework though….) Anyway I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

Again thank you so so much for dropping by comments and letting me know your thoughts on the story! Goddessofwarriorcats, Eryniel Greenleaf, Rose61393, Josie Sullivan, VanyaNoldo22, nananatz and zazanga. It really means a lot to read each and every single one of your words. Thanks a thousand times

If there are any Almarëa readers here, don't despair I haven't abandoned that story. I'm very stressed and full of work right now and the lighter tone of this story is a perfect de-stressant for me as it easier and more fun to write. Almarëa takes a lot of energy because the storyline is more intense and I need more time and concentration to devote to each chapter, but I'll update as soon as I can and have time to produce a proper chapter at the quality I want it!

Eryniel Greenleaf: No cookies?! What do you mean no Christmas cookies?! Christmas cookies for me or the next chapter will have the most horrible cliffhanger I can come up with! ;)

VanyaNoldo22: thank you! Happy Christmas to you too early! But I love celebration Chirstmas early! If it were up to me I would make it Christmas the entire year!

Josie: with these two…I don't know, you're never safe form fights ;)

Goddessofwarriorcats: they got caught!

Rose61393: I know! Haha I've been waiting for that moment 20 chapters as well.

nananatz: reaction is here hehe things are a little complicated.

Zazanga: I knowww! It's very irritating, you can see by his sour cold mood haha. And yes! It's happening! Or is it?

Love,

Elena


	22. Snow

She shook her head in front of the mirror, trying to focus her thoughts back on the present. With shaky hands she brushed away the few golden curls that had fallen messily over her face, sighing in frustration before deciding to simply braid it all in a single long plait. It took her a couple of minutes to realize that her gloves were making the job a lot more difficult that needed to, but she did not really care. She fumbled with the hair tie, the little black elastic band getting caught in the wool of her gloves, pulling at her hair painfully as she tried to twist it at the end of her braid. It was not working.

With a grunt, she yanked the hair tie loose, watching as the end of her braid started to fall apart, her stubborn curls returning to their place. She pulled away her gloves as well, throwing them carelessly over her perfectly made bed. She would not need them anyway. She was no longer in the mood of walking out onto the snowed grounds and watch the magical colorful boxes reveal whatever enchantment they had inside. She should not have eavesdropped. Merlin she wished she hadn't.

Sighing once more to herself, she made her way towards the closed wooden door, her hand quickly tuning the golden doorknob. She would find something else to do downstairs. It was better than staying in Arwen's room anyway, where her thoughts would do nothing than revisit the short conversation she had accidentally overheard. She rushed down the steps two at a time, wondering how she managed not to fall on her face a couple of times.

Just as it had been minutes before, the house was complete empty. Loud and cheerful voices echoed from outside, followed every couple of minutes by a round of laughter. So they still hadn't run out of magical boxes. She walked past the kitchen, letting out a breath in relief as she no longer heard any voices there, the door left half-way open, revealing only the empty grand room, a couple of plates and cups still on the small breakfast table in one corner.

She made her way towards the living room, the flickering light of the floating candles casting long orange reflections on the tall walls, dancing in yellow shadows. She stopped dead in her tracks, just underneath the wide arched opening that led inside the vast room. It was not empty. A lone figure sat on the farthest couch, by one of the wall long windows. He had not noticed her yet, his head looking outside the tall crystal pane almost disinterested, bored, his long legs spread over the cushions in front of him. Long silver hair fell in perfect waves of silk over his shoulders, contrasting sharply against his expensive navy blue sweater and disappearing through the cushions at his back. He looked handsome. Almost too handsome, and for a second all she could think about was that short second when his lisp had been on hers, his warm breath brushing over her face.

And there it was again, that uncomfortable knot tying her stomach and intestines tightly, and for a second she debated whether or not to stay or to run from the room before her presence was noticed. She wanted to flee, to go anywhere else, and yet she wanted to stay, wanted his eyes to turn in her direction. He was both the last person she wanted to see at the moment, and also the only person she wanted to see.

It seemed she took a little too long to make a decision, for suddenly icy blue eyes had flown in her direction, landing straight on her deep brown ones, and she could not look away.

"I thought you were outside, with everyone else." Her voice broke the peaceful silence, the only other sound in the room was the crackling of the large fireplace as the languid flames slowly consumed the burning wood. He took a couple of seconds to reply, those icy irises still piercing through hers, so sharp yet uncharacteristically gentle, like an oddly warm winter.

"It's snowing." He pointed out, his eyes momentarily leaving hers to throw a glance at the long crystal, and for the first time she noticed the thousands of little white flakes dancing furiously outside, starting to accumulate heavily at the exterior windowsill. A small smile drew on her face, and she could almost smell the falling snow, feel the flakes kissing her skin and falling on her eyelashes. But her smile was quick to fade, her heart sinking deeply at the perfectly calmed bored expression on his face.

"You can't be out in the snow?" She phrased it as a question, even though she already knew the answer. Crystal blue eyes met hers once more, gentle, his expression still a mask of perfect serenity.

"I shouldn't tonight." His musical deep voice was as serene as his eyes. He did not elaborate but she did not need any more explanations, the voices she had heard arguing in the kitchen once again playing on her head. He was fine now, he looked well, tall and regal as he ever did, and to any looking eye there would appear to be absolutely nothing wrong with him. But he had been sick two days in a row before today. Of course he could not be outside in the snow.

Her heart clenched tightly, even though she did not show it. It was unfair. It was so unfair. It was Christmas Eve, and it was _snowing_. There was nothing more magical than snow on Christmas Even in her opinion, and everyone else was already outside, probably enjoying a snowball fight, or building snowmen, or snow angels. And he could not join.

"Why are you not outside?" His voice brought her back from her thoughts, taking a couple of steps inside the room in his direction.

"It's _freezing_ outside." She explained, not adding that she had previously been looking for gloves in order to join the others outside. Instead, she walking towards one of the cushioned seats next to where he sat, not showing any interest in the snow outside.

"I like the cold." His voice was so low it was nearly a whisper, ad for a second she did not know whether he was talking to her or to himself.

"I know." She groaned. "You picked the _coldest_ corner in the whole _giant_ room." She complained, crossing he arms tightly around her chest and shivering lightly at the cool air she could feel radiating from the freezing window crystals.

A musical laugh floated over the room, the unexpected sound feeling somehow warmed than the dancing flames in the fireplace, making her lips curve up in a faint smile. A heavy woolen blanket suddenly landed on her head, and she quickly wrapped it around her before nodding her head in thanks.

"We can move a little closer to the fire, if you're too cold." He offered, his voice still that low peaceful sound, and for a second she did not know what to reply to that. He did not want to move closer to the fire, she could see it through the impenetrable crystal blue of his eyes. And yet, he was offering.

"I'm fine here." She shrugged it off, wrapping the blanket closer to her body. He nodded his head in silence, for long second not adding anything else as his icy blue eyes swept the vast room.

"Are those…still enchanted?" He asked, and her eyes followed the line of his wintery gaze only to land on the opened bag of marshmallows sitting not too far from them on an elegant silver tray.

"No." She laughed, shaking her head. "Their father made them put away the bag with that was enchanted. That bag is safe." She could still see Elladan's face as Mr. Peredhel had made him put away every single marshmallow in the other bag, all the while chastising him and his twin brother.

Thranduil rose to his feet, and for a split second she was reminded of just how tall he was. Slowly, he made his way to the silver tray, his steps so graceful it almost seemed as though he were gliding. His long pale fingers reached for the bag, lazily pulling out one of the white fluffy marshmallows and impaling it at the tip of a long wooden stick. And then, he approached her, standing in front of her sitting figure in complete silence, his hand offering the stick to her.

"Would you?" He said quietly, his eyes nodding in the direction of the roaring fire. And yet, even though his face remained that perfect mask of serenity, his eyes gentle yet unreadable, she did not miss the slight hint of hesitation in his voice, for a split second almost shy of asking, that usual confidence smirk he carried completely gone.

"Of course." She whispered, nodding her head and blinking a couple of times at the unexpected request. Her fingers curled around the offered wooden stick as she rose to her feet, making her way towards the grand fireplace.

"Make one for me too." She called behind her back casually, watching out of the corner of her eyes as he made his way towards the tray once more, preparing another stick for her. And still, it was as if something else had broken inside of her, the little things she so obviously missed suddenly coming into light. He had not wanted to be left out. Who wanted to be left out of the fun while everyone else melted delicious marshmallows in the fire? But who would he have asked to hold the little white treat in the fire for him? She knew it was easier for him to remain distant and aloof than asking her or Legolas to help him in the presence of others.

She silently accepted the second offered stick, watching out of the corner of her eyes as he moved to sit down on the couch directly behind the fireplace, closer than she knew he normally liked yet far enough from the flames. Sigrid lowered herself on the carpet in front of the languid orange flames, carefully holding the tow sticks in their orange and yellow tongues, watching the marshmallows slowly starting to melt and brown. She handed the stick back to him when it was done, watching him hold it silently for a while, waiting for it to cool off a little.

"How come you are in Slytherin?" The words had left her mouth before she had time to stop herself, speaking her thoughts out loud. Ice blue eyes flew in her direction, looking at her almost amusedly underneath arched brows.

"Are you judging me again, Bowman?" There was a hint of laughter in his perfectly peaceful voice, the corner of his lips curving up in a crooked smile that once again made butterflies flutter in her stomach.

"No." She shook her head, letting out a light nervous laugh. "I'm just wondering."

She had tried to answer that question for herself so many times before. At the begging she had been so convinced that he the description of Slytherin, the living testament as to why the Gryffindors hated the Slytherins so much, with his arrogant smile and regal presence and distant and aloof looks. And yet the more she knew him, the more that façade crumbled apart, and it became harder and harder for her to picture him in the Slytherin stereotype she had been taught by the fellow Gryffindors.

"You know being in Slythering doesn't mean you have dark magic in you?" He raised an eyebrow as he spoke, clearly reading through her stereotyping, and she felt momentarily embarrassed for having asked, even though he still looked amused at her question.

"You _do_ have dark magic in you." She pointed out, her eyes throwing an involuntary glance at his left arm before her eyes went suddenly wide, realizing what she had said. Merlin, she should learn to think before speaking! Only _she_ would so casually make fun of a curse that in reality caused him so much pain.

And yet, contrary to anything she had expected, he laughed. The musical sound was so oddly free and real, not than practiced and perfectly composed small chuckles of his. And for a second she was left astonished there, still sitting on the carpet by the fireplace.

"I can't believe you said that." He managed to add in between fits of laughter, his wide eyes looking at her a little too entertained.

"I'm so sorry." She blurted out quickly, already feeling the burning in her cheeks which meant she was probably as red as the rich leather couch in front of her.

"It's fine." He waved her off with an elegant movement of the hand, instead standing up and handing her another marshmallow on a stick for her to place in the fire for him, his wide grin never leaving his face.

"It was….refreshing." He added lowering himself elegantly on the couch once more, icy blue eyes looking through hers, still sparkling with the ghost of his smile. "Ada and Legolas just tiptoe around it all the time…as if I will break if I hear anyone mentioning it."

She swallowed once, not knowing what to say to that, instead focusing on holding the white fluffy treat on the fire for a couple of minutes.

"So, how come you're in Slytherin?" She returned the conversation to the main topic, watching the marshmallow slowly brown on the long wooden stick.

"I was going to be placed in Ravenclaw." Now that she had not been expecting, his voice once again that gentle peaceful sound, her brown eyes flying in his direction, landing on his tall figure, reclining comfortably on the couch. She handed him the stick with the new marshmallow and he quietly thanked her with a small smile, as she lowered herself on the couch next to him.

"And what happened?" She asked, crossing her legs under her on the cushions and kicking her boots off, which fell on the carpet with a silent thud.

"You say as though it was a bad thing." He pointed out, once again arching one of his perfect eyebrows high on his flawless forehead. "What happened was, the Hat was going to place in Ravenclaw. ' _A wise and ready mind'_ it said' _You would do well in Ravenclaw'._ And I told it that if it though I was wise, it would thus also know that being wise in my case would be to be in a house where people would ask the least questions, where I could be left alone if I wished to, where my occasional absences would be ignored enough by the rest of the school for me to have a relative normal school year, and most importantly where I could be close to the lake. _That_ would be wise for me. And then, the Hat laughed and placed me in Slytherin instead."

"It certainly worked out." She chuckled, even though there was a part of her that still fluttered with nerves, her heart suddenly soaring. He was telling her this. He, the one who only ever had light small talk, and never spoke about himself. This was new to her, and part of her did not know how to react to it. "You've been six years at Hogwarts and everyone still hates you for being apparently too self-absorbed to attend regular classes like everyone else."

"I rather they think that." He added quietly with a shrug, swallowing the whole marshmallow in a single bite. "I don't mind the talking, and the whispering and the rumors. I don't mid the glares either. They are a hundred times better than the pitying looks they would give me if they knew the truth. Those I can't stand."

"Why are you in our Potions class?" She asked, not knowing why he was suddenly telling her all this, but he only laughed lightly before shaking his head.

"What is this? An interview?" There it was again, that raised eyebrow that made his eyes looked even bluer.

"Just curious." She raised her hands in the air in a gesture of peace, even though she could not hold back her smile.

"You're too curious, Bowman."

"Am not." She muttered defensively, narrowing her eyes at his mocking grin.

"Why do you hate the twins so much?" She asked another question, realizing that the previous one wouldn't be answered, and she could see his brow raising curiously again on his forehead.

"Why so many questions?"

"Don't know." She shrugged, brushing away a few rebel curls over her shoulders. "Why do you hate them?"

"I get a question after this one." He added, letting out one of his musical chuckles. "You've asked too many yourself."

"Fine." She agreed, even though she was already starting to dread what he would ask her. "Why do you hate them so much?"

"I don't hate them." He shrugged, his voice completely honest. Outside, the snow had gotten heavier, the crystals now covered in a heavy layer of frost, and she wondered how it was that everyone else was still outside. They must be having fun if they still hadn't come back inside.

"Well, then why do they hate you?" She rephrased the question, her eyes drowning in those pool so icy blue, so clear, yet so unknown, unreadable.

"That's two questions." He pointed out, crossing his arms elegantly, and she let out a laugh, standing up from her place on the couch.

"Where are you going?" He narrowed his eyes in confusion just as she rounded the couch, her socks brushing against the rich carpet and making her hair stick to her sweater with static.

"That counts as your question." She teased with a laugh, picking out a couple of candy canes from the enormous Christmas tree.

"No, it doesn't." He shook his head, his waterfall of silver hair moving along like the finest silk.

"You want hot chocolate?" She offered, already making her way towards he kitchen, a smile growing on her face as she heard his light elegant footsteps following her.

"I don't like hot chocolate." He said just as they entered the giant kitchen, making her turn around to face him almost perplexed.

"What _do_ you like?" It was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him, even though he stood more than a head taller than her, his posture always so regal, so powerful. He didn't like candy, now he didn't like hot chocolate….what was wrong with him?

"Water's fine." He shrugged, walking over to sit down on one of the wooden chairs lining the breakfast table. He looked tired, she could tell, even though he tried hard not to show it.

" _Water_?" She muttered incredulously, narrowing her eyes in his direction. "It's _Christmas Eve,_ the night you eat and drink as many treats and sweets as you wish, and you want to have _water_?"

"There's nothing wrong with water." He muttered in return, once again seeming a little too amused by her words, and she rolled her eyes at him, walking over to one of the higher cupboards.

"It's boring, that's what's wrong with it." She muttered as she rose to the tip of her toes, scanning over the collection of mugs and glasses of every shape and color the twins had there.

"Do you need help?" He mocked her, starting to rise from his chair, but she stopped him with a hand.

"I've got it." She insisted. He was a lot taller than her, and he would have no trouble reaching this high shelf, but she knew that if he helped her, then he would pick out his mug, and she was looking for just a particular one….where was it? Her eyes scanned over the mugs left and right. It was here, she knew it. She had seen it that morning…..ah! there!

She picked out the mug she had been searching and then took out a plain deep blue mug for herself, proceeding to fill it with creamy hot chocolate while pouring water in his. Then, she made her way to the table, passing along the mug with water in his direction, unable to contain her grin at his raised questioning eyebrows.

"It's _Christmas Eve."_ She pointed out stubbornly again just as she sat down on the chair directly across from his. "If you are going to drink plain water, at least the mug has to be festive."

He let out a single chuckle, his eyes inspecting the mug with a combination of amusement and disgust, and she could tell that he was quickly judging the taste of whoever it was had bought such a thing. She couldn't blame him. The mug was probably the ugliest in the house. It was a shaped as Christmas tree, the green a color an ugly dark shade. The ceramic ornaments in the tree-shaped mug were a little too overwhelming, and the handle was in the form of an oversized candy cane. It looked to be one of those cheap mugs one found at a tacky muggle store, and she knew that one of the twins had probably bought it simply to mock it endlessly.

She opened her mouth to repeat her question again, but the small wooden swing doors leading to the kitchen suddenly opened, her mouth closing as the tall figure of Oropher Lasgalen stepped inside. There was snow accumulated at the hem of his elegant robes, and melting on his silvery hair. So everyone else was still outside, then. Dark blue eyes swept over the two of them sitting casually at the table before they focused on his eldest son. For a split second, the elder Lasgalen's eyes landed on the mug in his son's hand, flying upwards to meet his son's gaze, the hint of a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"That's a beautiful mug you have there, my son." He commented, his eyes sparkling with the concealed teasing gleam in his faint smile. Thranduil merely shook his head, a finger lifting accusingly in her direction.

"You're drinking _water_." She whispered at his accusing finger, narrowing her eyes in his direction, even though his father seemed to catch her words perfectly clearly.

"On _Christmas Eve_?" The elder Lasgalen questioned. It was the same thing she had mentioned to Thranduil before, and yet even though her words had held an incredulous and amused tone to it, she did not miss the slight thread of worry that was concealed in the taller blond wizard. For a second she felt stunned. Was something wrong? Had she missed something? The taller powerful wizard looked as if about to ask something for a split second before he seemed to change his mind, his face once again so perfectly composed and elegant, like the powerful wizard that had once been Minister of Magic not too long ago.

"Ready to head home?" Oropher Lasgalen asked his son gently in that deep voice of his that held such silent authority she knew nobody would ever dare question him when being stern. "Your brother is falling asleep already."

"I'll stay a little longer." Thranduil's voice was that familiar serene sound as he spoke, gentle ice blue eyes looking directly at his father. "I'll walk back home later. Is that alright?"

For a fragment of a second, the older wizard seemed completely surprised, as if that had been the last thing he was expecting, but then the look was gone, replaced once again by that elegant mask of serenity, even though his dark blue eyes still carried a hint of bafflement.

"Of course." He answered, a little quicker than his usual tone, blinking a couple of times. "You may stay as long as you wish. I'll take Legolas home, then."

The tall powerful wizard turned around then, starting to head back outside the room when he suddenly stopped at the doorway, turning around to look at his son once more.

"Call Polly and have her apparate you back home." He instructed, and she watched as Thranduil made an effort not to roll his eyes in clear frustration. Polly. She remembered that name. It was their house elf. One of their house elves.

"The house is ten steps away-" He started, but the taller wizard interrupted him gently midway.

"For my sake, Thranduil, let Polly apparate you. I don't want you walking out in this snowstorm." The older wizard's voice was soft, but there was unmistakable command in them that left not space for argument.

"You're walking home with Legolas." The Slytherin seeker protested, ice blue eyes glaring furiously at his father, only making her feel incredibly uncomfortable there, in the middle of the argument.

"Call Polly, and let her apparate you." The taller wizard said firmly, marking the end of the conversation and leaving no room for further arguments or complaints. And yet, even though stern, his dark blue eyes seemed to apologize to his son, as if he did not like to have to give the firm order and yet needed to.

"Fine." Thranduil whispered sourly, the older wizard nodding his head in silence and disappearing out of the kitchen, leaving them in complete silence for a few moments. He was frustrated, she could tell, his lips pressed in a thin line.

He let out a sigh after a few minutes, his ice blue eyes turning in her direction, a faint slime present on his handsome face. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"It's _Christmas_." She narrowed her eyes in confusion, watching as he shook his head lightly at her.

"I know." He added in that peaceful tone of his, his eyes lowering to gaze at the clear water still swirling inside the ugly mug. "We don't do much for Christmas, so, if you're bored, or anything, you can perhaps come over?"

"I…"She didn't know what to say, although every part of her wanted to join him in whatever it was he did for Christmas.

"I'm spending Christmas with the twins, that's why I'm here….I don't know what it is we'll be doing." She explained apologetically. After all she had come to spend Christmas with the twins and their family. And yet, he merely nodded his head, his face still perfectly unreadable, so stunningly handsome.

"Alright." He suddenly said, that familiar teasing grin she knew so well suddenly appearing on his face as his ice blue eyes pierced through hers. "My turn for questions."

Here's the next chapter! Sorry for the wait! I hope you enjoy it! I know the story is taking long to pick up, but I hope you're still enjoying it anyway!

Also once again thank you so so much to all who reviewed the last chapter! It means so much to me to hear your words about this little crazy story! Eryniel Greenleaf, Rose6193, Goddessofwarriorcats, VanyaNoldo22, and nananatz.

Love,

Elena


	23. Change

"Sig!"

A hand gripped her forearms suddenly, pulling her up the last few steps into the buzzing narrow train corridor.

"It's great to see you again!" Eowyn's arms curled around her neck enthusiastically, nearly strangling her momentarily, but she didn't care, feeling all too giggly as she hugged her best friend back. Eowyn's waterfall of blond waves fell over her eyes for a second, completely obstructing her view of the many students dashing up and down the wagon, pulling their heavy trunks in groups into the scarlett Hogwart's Express.

"Didn't' you miss us as well?" Elladan's voice chimed to her left, and Eowyn's arms released their crushing hold around her neck.

"Not really." Her friend said in what tried to be a casual tone, even though the excited gleam in her grey blue eyes betrayed her feelings.

"How much did you pack in here, Sig?" Elrohir complained as he pulled her trunk up the last steps and into the wagon, dropping it carelessly onto the floor in an exaggerated move.

"Yours was heavier, Ro, you know it." She added instantly, unable to hold a laugh at the younger twin's exaggerated display. She had tried to lift the twin's trunks before leaving the house, and knew by a fact that they were both considerably heavier than hers. And yet the younger twin only grinned at her, that wide smile that sparkled mischievously in his silver eyes.

" _Excuse me?_ " an impatient voice added from behind her, and she turned her eyes only to see a third year Ravenclaw girl standing just behind them by the steps of the train looking positively annoyed, her hands resting on her narrow waist in a pose that almost wanted to make a statement.

"I think we should move." She suggested, her left hand already trying to drag the heavy trunk Elrohir had helped her carry while her right hand jumped to grab Eowyn's forearm, the later looking about to jump at the impatient Ravenclaw girl. "Eowyn, let's move. Forget it."

"Merlin," Eowyns muttered lowly to herself, dragging her own trunk along the narrow corridor, even though she did not miss the way in which her gorgeous grey blue eyes threw a murderous glare at the girl who was now climbing onto the wagon.

" _Some people_ need to learn to have some _patience_." Her friend continued to complain, talking as though she was only mentioning it to herself yet making sure her voice was just loud enough for the Ravenclaw girl to hear, making Sigrid roll her eyes in exasperation.

"Eowyn, drop it. It's not worth it." She whispered, shaking her head at her friend's predictable behavior. "Let's find a compartment."

"Alright." Her friend agreed, seeming to momentarily let go of the impatient Ravenclaw incident….even though Sigrid knew that Eowyn would not really let it go until they had reached the castle, and for her sake, she wished to find a compartment as far away as possible from that girl as she possibly could.

It was difficult to navigate the crowded narrow corridors, especially while dragging their trunks along. Students ran back and forth the space, some even carelessly jumping over their trunks on the way, others crammed to the windows and waving furiously at their family's down on the platform. As ever, Platform 9 ¾ was bustling with people, parent running back and forth with their children through the hazy white vapor that hung over the space like a dancing cloud. Her eyes travelled through the rushing figures, quickly scanning through each of them, from group to group, but it was pointless. Out, in an adjacent wagon, a witch wearing an electric blue pointed hat was frantically reaching up to the window, handing a red haired boy a book he had dropped on his way into the train. She even saw the twins, who had jumped out of the train and were now standing in front of their father who seemed to be taking to them very seriously about something…even though she already knew the twins would not heed any advice or order their father would give them while at Hogwarts.

"Mum!" A sandy haired chubby first year was complaining out in the platform, trying to sneak away from his mother's tight embrace. "You already said goodbye!"

"Oh, hush, Phillippe! Give mummy one more hug before the summer!" A round-faced witch dressed in bright magenta robes kept pressing him to her, seeming to be easily ignoring her son's complaints and embarrassed looks.

"Mum! Let go of me!"

"In here." Eowyn's voice brought her wondering mind back, and she followed her friend into the first empty compartment they had found since climbing into the train. It took them a few minutes of struggle, but finally they managed to lift Eowyn's trunk into the overhead storage compartment. And yet, hers was proving to be all the more difficult.

"What in Merlin's name did you put in here, Sig!?" Eowyn complained the second they attempted to lift the heavy trunk, which only slipped from their fingers and fell with a loud thud on the floor.

"Why does everyone keep asking that?!" She laughed, reaching down and preparing herself for a second attempt. "It's just the same things I always pack! Nothing new!"

"Need a hand, Bowman?" A warm friendly slime met her eyes underneath pair of kind smiling black eyes. he walked towards them without waiting for an answer, easily lifting the heavy trunk from the floor.

"Thanks, Wills." She said, her hand almost automatically placing a stray curl behind her ear, trying her best to ignore the mischievous look Eowyn was throwing her.

"It's nothing." He waved her off, offering her one of his refreshing genuine smiles, placing her trunk on the overhead compartment as if weighed absolutely nothing.

"How was your Christmas?" He fidgeted with his hands as he spoke, a gesture that nearly made her chuckle, having seen it a couple of times before. He towered over her, awkwardly tall and thin, yet his face with those gentle black eyes and equally ebony hair always so incredibly handsome. "Yours too, Rohan….How was your Christmas as well? Did you have a good time? Got many gifts?"

"It was good, thanks for asking." Eowyn answered first, her face trying yet failing to conceal her amusement, even though Sigrid was partially glad for her friend to stop the Ravenclaw's nervous rambling.

"Um, well, I'll see you later." He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pale gray sweater, his gentle smile still adorning his face as he made his way to the door of the compartment. "You both should stop by our compartment sometime! I'll be there with Felicia."

"We will." She added, chuckling as he disappeared through the narrow corridor packed with students, chatting away with a Hufflepuff boy whose name she did not know.

She dropped down on the cushioned seat, her eyes almost immediately once again dancing out the foggy crystal windows, scanning through the busy platform. The scarlet trains gave out of roaring whistle, a thicker cloud of white vapor erupting from it as the engine gave a jerk, the students left outside running to climb on the train before it departed. They had to be out there, somewhere. They had to. And yet she did not find that familiar curtain of silvery hair and icy blue eyes that she had been searching for. Perhaps the Lasgalen brothers were already on the train?

And still, oddly, it felt as if a weight had suddenly landed heavily on her stomach, that horrible feeling that had accompanied her through New Year's Eve and through the last week of the break once again returning. Something was off. And she did not know what. They had left. Just like that…they had disappeared. She remembered it all too freshly, remembered the Christmas Eve dinner party, and yet it felt as though it had been a distant dream. They had talked for hours inside that kitchen, until almost two in the morning, once everyone returned inside the house and it was time for everyone to go to bed. He had asked her to go visit his house the next day, on Christmas day, and she had…..but they were no longer there. The giant manor had been empty….and it stayed like that for the rest of the break.

And much to her frustration, she had not been able to ask anyone about it. She had tried to absently ask the twins about the Lasgalens' sudden departure, but just as she had expected, they had shown no interest in the matter, only shrugging at her question, and she had dropped the subject. But still she couldn't shake the feeling that something was not entirely right. Why would anybody go to spend Christmas somewhere, and yet leave on Christmas morning?

"Hello?" Her eyes snapped up at Eowyn's voice, for the first realizing that she had been speaking to her. "Sig? I've been calling you for a while, now. What are you thinking about so intently?"

"Sorry." She shook her head, offering her friend an apologetic smile, even though Ewoyn continued to look at her slightly suspiciously.

"Were you thinking about Wills?" Her friend's grey blue eyes glimmered with mischief as she spoke, and Sigrid could not hold back the urge to roll her own brown eyes at her.

" _No_." She stretched the words, watching as her friend enjoyed teasing her a little too much.

The train gave a sudden jerk, a loud final whistle echoing through the platform, the last few students left below rushing to jump into the departing train. She could parents waving frantically at the younger students, all perched to the crystals and yelling last minute farewells. Even a couple of younger children ran along the train down at the platform, as if trying to keep up with it until it disappeared through the narrow stone tunnel and out into the green expanding lands.

"How was Christmas at the twins' ?" Eowyn plopped down on the seat in front of her, taking off her worn winter boots only to reveal a pair of fluffy bright pink socks underneath.

"Nice socks." She mocked, her friend only narrowing her eyes momentarily before urging her to answer her previous question.

"It was fun." She shrugged casually, even though her insides jerked with only thinking about that Christmas dinner. He had kissed her. She could almost still feel it, his gentle lips, surprisingly warm, softly pressed against hers. It made her stomach flutter in a way she could not understand, could not describe. Part of her wanted to tell Eowyn, needed someone else to know, someone to talk to about it. But she already dreaded what would happened if her friend found out about it. And she hated it. Hated that prejudice, that horrid rivalry between houses that prevented her friends form seeing beyond that.

"How was yours?" She changed the focus of the conversation from her to Eowyn, taking the time to pull her hair out of the already falling ponytail and braiding it in one long single plait over her shoulder.

"It was alright?" Her friend smiled absentmindedly, "Surprisingly calm, and nothing remotely interesting. Where are the twins, by the way?"

"I have no idea." She shook her head, not really wanting to know what the twins could possibly be up to right now. Most probably torturing a poor first year with some pranks or scary tales of the castle. But then again, another thought crossed her mind, suddenly rising to her feet from the cushioned comfortable seat, heading towards the sliding compartment door. "I'll go see if I can find them."

"I'll save your seat." Eowyn waved her off, already taking out a Quidditch magazine from her schoolbag by her feet and starting to look through the pages.

The train rocked at a steady lulling rhythm underneath her feet, her steps awkward and wobbly as she made her way through the way less crowded corridor. Her eyes darted from left to right as discreetly a she possibly could, gazing through the glazing of the compartment doors, but every single time she was disappointed. It did not take her long to find the twins, huddled in a nearby compartment with a bunch of fifth year Gryffindors, all of whom talked so loudly it was nearly impossible to understand what any of them was saying. But she had not been looking for the twins, no matter what she had told Eowyn.

She walked nearly all the length of the train, and every single compartment, every single wagon, was a disappointment. Perhaps she should have known better. If he was on the train, he would be at the front, and the Prefects compartment. She should have thought of that sooner. She was about to turn around, ready to head back to where Eowyn was waiting for her, when she heard it. That perfectly faked, yet musical chorus of chuckles. She knew that laugh. Knew it almost too well.

She turned her head around in flash, a soft smile drawing on her face as her eyes landed on that familiar cascade of silvery hair in the distance, coming out of one of the last compartments in the wagon. He had not yet changed into his school robes, even though Prefects usually changed the second the train departed from London. Instead, he wore and elegant black sweater, the dark fabric a sharp contrast to his pale silvery hair and incredibly white skin, making his piercing blue eyes icier that usual. He had not seen her yet, her hand already starting to rise in a greeting gesture, ready to wave at him.

"You are out of your mind, Lex." He spoke into the compartment, her hand suddenly freezing midway, feeling as though a heavy weight had brutally landed on her, crushing her fiercely into the ground. _Lex._ And yet, his words were friendly, casual, even smiling his perfectly composed aloof smile.

She barely had time to think on it when another voice echoed from the compartment her was just leaving. "You didn't think that last week at my house."

A girl walked out to join him, every single one of her steps so graceful it looked as though she was dancing. Her long jet black hair was left loose to frame her perfectly angled face, and those eyes, those frustratingly stunning pale green eyes were glued to him as she smiled widely, showing all her perfect pearly teeth.

"I did." He shook his head with another casual silent laugh. "But now I am sure of it."

Last week? She could not name why, could not fully understand why, but every single word of this conversation stung her like salt to a wound. That's where he had disappeared to? He had been with _her_? And she didn't know why but it felt as though her insides had been suddenly smashed in a torturing tight grip. She had been such a fool. Part of her had been frightened out of her mind at his sudden disappearance after Christmas, knowing that there were so many things that could possibly have happened to him, fearing that something had gone wrong, and yet he had had time to go to _her_ house, yet not once had he attempted to contact her, to tell her that he was fine? But what had she been thinking. They were barely friends at all. She had been such a fool to think that once they returned to school he would act as though their little friendly time during Christmas Even had even happened. So this was it then? He was back to being the popular, cold, Slythering Seeker?

"How's your arm, Thranduil?" Another girl walked out of the compartment door, and she recognized her instantly, having seen her a couple of times always around that same group of sickening Slytherin girls. "Alexis mentioned you had a flying accident?"

For the first time she noticed that his left arm was heavily bandaged, held carefully inside a sling over his shoulder. But he merely shrugged, every one of his moves so regal, so perfectly composed.

"It's fine." He mentioned, neither his eyes nor face giving any indication that he would let on any more details, but neither of the girls seemed to be paying too much attention to that. Flying accident. Merlin's beard, as if Sigrid would _ever_ believe it had been a flying accident. And yet it infuriated her to no end the fact that she still felt a pang of worry crossing her body.

"But you'll still play on the next match, will you?" The other girl asked, even though it was so obviously evident that she had no interest in the question she had just asked, merely wishing to keep talking to him about anything really.

"Of course he will play." Alexis answered before the older Lasgalen brother could open his mouth to speak, one of her pale hands travelling up and down his right arm in a gesture that made her want to break those thin fragile fingers.

"I will see you later." He said in that distant melodic tone so characteristic of him, both of the girls reentering the compartment just as he started to turn around.

She moved in flash, opening the door to the nearest compartment and slipping inside before she could be noticed. She did not want to face him, all of her previous eagerness to see him, to talk to him, suddenly vanished, vaporized into thin air. He walked past her compartment without noticing, elegantly gliding along the narrow corridor and disappearing from view.

She let out a breath she did not know she had been holding, for the first time noticing that the compartment was mercifully empty. And yet, it still felt as though her insides were slowly, painfully, crushing inside of her, as if a painful unwelcomed pinch had brutally awakened her from what had felt like a dream. How foolish had she been.

Lex. He had called her _Lex._ She could not tell why, but strangely that hurt the most, that shortened name that implied such familiarity. And once more it became all too evident, she was all too aware that she was still Bowman to him, would forever remain Bowman… but she was _Lex._ But _why_ did it bother her so much? Why did it made her feel this way? She knew they were barely friends. Had known it all along. Why had she naively expected more?

She dropped down on one of the cushioned seats, even though part of her told her to go back to where Eowyn was waiting for her and forget all about this. Pretend like it was any other regular train ride, and as though nothing had ever happened during Christmas Eve. But she stayed where she was, leaning instead her head over the crystal and feeling the soft rattling of the train on her temple.

The landscape outside had changed from small towns to entirely empty green lands, the bluish mountains stretching like majestic monuments in the horizon. A heavy grey cloud hung over the landscape anticipating soft rain, but it hadn't started falling yet, only every once in a while the gentle rumble of thunder would roar between the distant blue mountains.

She did not even notice when she started to doze off, only waking up abruptly at the sound of the food trolley making its way through the narrow corridor outside. Her neck ached, her left hand coming to rub it from she had been leaning against the window probably for hours. Sighing, she rose to her feet, absently sliding open the door of the compartment. She should go back to find her friends. At least attempt to enjoy the remaining hours of the train ride back to Hogwarts.

The corridor was surprisingly empty, except for a group of second-years huddled around the trolley some distance away, buying every single piece of candy it carried. Her fingers smoother the wrinkled fabric of her pale grey sweater, starting her way down the train. It had already started to rain, although softly, the fragile little drops looking like a greyish mist out the windows. Her chest turned painfully as she passed the compartment where she had last seen Thranduil, peeking at the sixth-year Slytherin girls inside before hurriedly walking away.

Halfway through the train, she stopped. Her narrowed eyes glanced through the crystal of a closed compartment door, hands fidgeting slightly. No. She should go back to her friends; they were probably wondering where she had gotten herself into. But he was there. He was never around in the train, not usually, always at the front in the Prefects compartment. Anger boiled inside her chest as she overlooked his sleeping figure, sitting at the far end of the seat, by the window. There was nobody else inside, only him, looking to be fast asleep. His pale silvery hair fell over his shoulders and stuck to his black sweater, the end of his wand sticking out of the pockets.

She could not contain herself, she was angry, both with him and with herself, and before she knew it her hands were harshly sliding open the compartment door and stepping inside. When he did not wake at that, she pushed the door closed behind her so strongly that the crystals rattled dangerously at the sound.

His head snapped in her direction, startled, ice blue eyes looking slightly confused at first, before he seemed to remember where he was. And then, he relaxed, looking so casual it almost hurt, leaning back comfortably on the cushioned seat, once again so regal, so elegant.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" She said sarcastically, feeling only the slightest bit of satisfaction at his momentarily confused expression.

"No need to mistreat the door, Bowman." His voice, that musical velvet sound, somehow always managed to throw her off, and she had to shake her hear lightly to remind herself of how angry she was with him. But she should have known better.

And yet, he acted as though nothing was wrong, his expression, his words, every gesture, surprisingly friendly, just as it had been during Christmas Eve. But there was something else there, she could see it hidden deeply in his pale blue eyes, a coldness that had not been there before, like a wall of ice. And now that she was closer, she noticed that his skin was a couple of shades paler than usual. He looked exhausted, even though he tried not to show it, and she suddenly regretted waking him up so harshly.

"You disappeared." She accused him, taking the seat right in front of him. Her voice had suddenly lost all traces of angered, replaced suddenly by confusion and worry. "You asked me to come over, and you were no longer there…."

"I'm sorry." He interrupted her, his voice flat, pale blue eyes looking out the window instead of at her.

"What happened?" She asked, making an effort not to show how much his sudden cutting tone had affected her.

"I don't owe you any explanations." She cringed at his sudden cold tone, icy impenetrable eyes turning to meet hers like glass cold crystals, letting nothing in. That was not him. It had taken her months to discover that. Those cold eyes and frigid disinterested tone, that was not him, it was the walls he placed around everyone else.

"I get it." She sighed, rising to her feet, and somehow managing not to show how much his words could wound her. She shook her head, collecting her thoughts. Of course she should have known better than to expect that he could remain a friendly ad warm as he had been outside of school. "You don't have to explain anything to me. What you do is none of my business. Are we even friends? Or was that just a façade as well?"

"Whatever, Bowman." He muttered, his eyes once again focused outside the window. That was it. His words felt like salt to an open wound, and yet a new pang of worry gripped her stomach like a vicious claw. That answer…that was the most unlike him, even when angry. Something was definitely off, and largely so.

"What changed?" she asked firmly, her brown eyes bearing into him, even though he did not meet them.

"Everything, and nothing." He whispered after a few seconds of silence, his words so cold they could freeze a summer, but somehow, strangely, as it was though his anger was not directed at her.

Long minutes of silence stretched between them, the only sound was the soft rocking of the train and the gentle hammering of the thin raindrops over the fogged crystals. She swallowed thickly after a long moment, placing a stray golden curl behind her ear, before slowly turning towards the door.

"It's not looking good for me."

His words stopped her, his voice so low it was barely audible. She turned around instantly, only to find his impenetrable eye still lost on nothing in particular outside the window. Suddenly, she didn't know what to say, only lowering herself once more on the seat across from him, fidgeting with her hands at the weight of his words.

"I happened again, didn't it? During Christmas?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she spoke, for the first time in a while his ice blue eyes turning to meet hers, somehow less guarded, less cold.

He nodded his head, not voicing the answer she already knew would get. But part of her had known it already. That sudden disappearance…the bandages around his arm when she knew he would try anything not to wear them at school. Something had happened.

"How bad was it?" She asked, not sure if she really wanted to hear the answer, or whether or not he would choose to answer her in the first place. It took him a moment to reply, and when he did she wished she had not ever asked.

"Too close." Was all he said, but she understood exactly what he meant, her chest contracting painfully. Too close to killing him. "It was different this time…the spells are no longer holding. Unless they come up with a new one soon…. "

"My father did not want me to come back to Hogwarts." He continued, with shrug, as if he didn't care. But he was not fooling her. "He said I should stay home instead."

"But you wanted to come back?" She phrased it a question, even she knew the answer. He would not have been on the train had it been different, would he? And yet, he merely turned to gaze outside the window once more, his expression that cold, disinterested façade that she hated so much, as though nothing mattered to him.

"I don't care." He shrugged coldly, making her close her eyes momentarily at the icy tone.

"You _do_ care." She hissed, wanting nothing more than to snap him out of whatever attitude he had on at the moment. "You may think you are fooling everyone else, but you are not fooling me. You _do_ care. Or what? Were you merely going to lose the rest of the school year?"

"Lose the rest of the year…" He chuckled, the sound so bitter and humorless that it nearly made her cringe, her heart constricting painfully once more. Ice blue eyes flew to hers, so cold and impenetrable all his walls back up.

"Do you _really_ think _anyone_ is expecting me to actually graduate?" He hissed, his eyes so full of raging fury, yet it was not directed at her, and she suddenly had the feeling that it was him the one waking her up to a reality she did not understand. "Do you think I don't know how many classes professors have marked as 'Incomplete' for me, yet I haven't been forced to retake them simply because they all think 'we don't know whether he'll make it to seventh-year? Do you think I don't know that I should be in fifth year now, but started school a year early because Dumbledore agreed with my father that I _needed something else to do as a distraction_?"

"Just take a look at my school bag!" He suddenly pulled the zipper open so harshly that he nearly broke it. It was as though part of him was suddenly snapping, letting out things that had been tearing him apart for Merlin knew how long. She looked away almost instantly once her eyes caught sight of hundreds of little crystal bottles holding a pale green liquid inside, which she recognized immediately. They were pain potions. "Do you know how many of these I drank only today, before boarding the train? …It doesn't matter what I do. I'm just wasting time until something else happens."

"Wasting time…" She repeated hollowly. Suddenly, every part of her that had been so fragilely kept together by sheer determination shredded into pieces. His words hurt more than she would ever dare to admit, and she did not know how she managed to conceal the sting of tears in her eyes. "Is that what everything I to you then? A waste of time? …School, friends, Quidditch, your girlfriend….me? Are we just here for you to waste time?"

"My girl…?" Ice blue eyes narrowed in her direction momentarily, until he seemed to understand what she was talking about. "Alexis is not my girlfriend."

"Doesn't matter." She replied, suddenly no longer caring about that, her heart feeling as though it was in pieces on the floor and the train was running over its battered form. She took one long deep breath, gathering the courage to say what she wanted to say next.

"You kissed me…" She started, her voice shaking only slightly, even though her brow eyes retained her stubborn determination. "Was that you wasting time too?"

The change in his ice blue eyes impossible to describe, suddenly going wide at her words. It was as if in a single second, that cold glassy barrier that coated his stunning eyes suddenly fell apart, replaced by hurt and regret. There was so much pain in those infinitely endless eyes, pain and fear that it hurt to see, but he did not speak, and his silence hurt more than his words. She shook her head, forcing herself to take another deep breath and hold her tears which were threatening to fall. She should never have come into this compartment looking for this.

"No wait…" He whispered quickly, the second she turned around, and she angled her face to look at his elegant silent figure. "Don't go."

"No." She said, shaking her head once more. "I can't keep doing this. You treat me nicely one day then horribly the next, and yet you always expect me to stay? If you want to waste your life away, then do it, but don't count on me for that. I won't be a part of that."

"Bowman…" He said, his voice barely audible. Ice blue eyes looked deeply at her, devoid of all of their previous guarded façade, pained, almost pleading. And once again she could not stop from noticing how exhausted he looked, as though he had not slept properly in days, perhaps even weeks, his skin a little too pale. He must have been feeling far from well. "You are my _only_ real friend."

"You certainly make sure I feel that way." She added sarcastically, every part of her hurting too much. She turned around without looking back at him, ignoring him as he called after her softly, quickly shoving the compartment door closed.

She made it back to her solitary compartment faster than she had expected, thankful that she only passed a couple of first-year Hufflepuffs that were too entertained chatting about some sort of book that they did not notice her. Only once the door was safely closed and locked behind her, she let herself crumble, the tears she had been holding back suddenly coming free…

Finally here is the next chapter! I know it was a long wait but things were very very very busy. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think! I'll try to update as soon as I can!

Also, thank you so much to all who reviewed the latest chapter, I appreciate every single one of your words and thoughts and it makes me incredibly happy to hear that at least there are readers enjoying this story, it means a lot to me: Amsim, Eryniel Greenleaf, VanyaNoldo22, Goddessofwarriorcats, Josie Sullivan.

Love,

Elena


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